Garv’n's sergeant, Vil’n and his men found young Kyna'r lying in the alley, his neck broken.
"What sort of man would do a thing like this, Sarge?" asked one of his men, looking distressed, his faced screw into a deep frown.
Vil’n didn't answer but looked into the darkness of the alley, walked a short distance to assure himself no one was there then turned and walked back and out into the street, looked both ways from the walkway, then re-entered the alley to stand by the young soldier.
"How long do ya think he's been dead, sir?" another asked, as Vil’n returned. No one touched the boy; they shrank from the sight.
Vil’n glanced about again. He squatted near the body, reached and touched his hand to the boy's neck. "Probably two hours, maybe a little more. Not much earlier than Trines," he answered without looking up.
This boy was too young to have died like this. What sort of man did this? Indeed, evil only did this thing.
He stood.
"Pick him up and let's take him outside the city to bury him. This hell hole is no place to lay a man to rest," he ordered two of the men, pointing to them to gather the body to take it with them.
"You, Aron’l, you ride hard and return to Tariny and tell Lord Garv’n what has befallen us.” The boy stood looking at the dead soldier.
“Go, ride quickly!" he said to the man by his side, pushing him by his shoulder toward the horses, "there is no time to waste. Let's leave this place. Come."
The boy ran quickly, leaped onto his horse, and rode out to the street then bolted through the crowd as he turned at the end of the alley and galloped toward the southern road to Tariny. He disappeared quickly in the bustling street, many walking by grumbled about the horse pushing them aside as he charged down upon them. These grumblers simply melted back into the moving masses as though nothing disturbed the balance of things as they were.
"Let's go, men," Vil’n suddenly ordered, raised his hand, motioned to begin their ride. They mounted, turned at the street and headed northward. The crowd parted in waves before them.
Vil’n was not going to change his obedience to orders, but he was saddened by the young boy's death. He hadn't seen such a death since his youth when the last of the battles of the Samontha wars were fought. That was too many years ago and the tragedy of this death did not lose its significance on Vil’n.
Who indeed needed to kill this lad? What were they seeking? Could those papers Garv’n gave him be the cause?
Garv’n entrusted Vil’n with the papers; scribed from the original documents he found within those tomes searched through all these years.
Garv’n was ill now and weakened by the sickness upon him; this traveling, at such a pace, was not the kind of life he normally had and sleeping out of the safe environment of his home, all had taken their toll. He designated none of the papers be opened until Vil’n and his men were approaching the lands of the witch, Voravia, and only then must they be read and the instructions followed exactly.
As they rode from the gates of Varspree on their journey northward, Vil'n felt the papers against his chest, retrieved from his saddle packs.
They rode hard to leave Varspree, raising a cloud of dust that hovered above the street for only moments before it sank slowly back to the hot street.
A few miles from the city they paused, selecting a spot on a small knoll overlooking the shallow valley. The wind rose just as they left the city; now several trees swayed in the wind as they buried the young soldier, only a boy.
No one spoke as they worked; they stood quietly and shivered as the damp air blew coldly over the low hills, skies darkened even in midday.
A feeling of foreboding caused several of the men to look round at the open terrain near the graveside; their faces grave, showing their fear.
Vil'n decided to stay for a while to let his men calm themselves a bit. When he decided they needed to leave, Vil’n called Fan's, his page over and gave the hidden papers to him.
"Guard them well," he told the boy quietly, placing his hand on the young man's shoulder.
Then he walked to his horse and shouted, "Let's mount up. We have a long ride still.”
They all walked slowly to their horses, pulled themselves into their saddles, and walked the horses back to the road. The horse of the young soldier was led by the last of them, a friend. His sword and scabbard were tied in place on the abandoned saddle. The boy died a soldier's death and they honored him as best they could.
They rode away slowly until Vil’n motioned for them to speed up. Vil’n was a man all in his group respected; he was strong in his will but honest and fair with his men in all dealings with them. He was not so demanding he didn't allow the men to enjoy the benefits of their travels; travels they endured in the service of Garv’n.
Garv’n, admired by his men, was considerate and though unbelievably wealthy, respected them and always genuinely showed his appreciation for their efforts. The men felt no malice toward either of their leaders; they would always serve them well because these were men they trusted.
"Sergeant, I see men riding hard towards us on the southeast road," the advance scout rode back to give the message.
"They should reach the forks of the road in those hills there about the same time we do," he added, pointing slightly toward the northwest where small hills were beginning to rise.
Vil'n's troop was approaching the first foothills of the great mountains and the land was beginning to undulate.
Probably just a small band of thieves.
Vil’n stood in his stirrups, turned on his horse and gave an order to his men. "Let's ride more slowly, men and ride in formation in case we meet a little trouble."
Behind his troop, he saw yet another cloud of dust rising above the road over which they had just traveled.
"Seems we're to have plenty of company today. Let's move to the trees on this rise. No need to leave ourselves unprepared for trouble.”
He motioned to the scout. “Return to your post and report if anything else unusual occurs."
The scout turned his horse and galloped away to the north.
Moving off the road, the troops dismounted and walked into the trees, waiting for the formation following them until it came into view. The new group was flying Garv’n's banner.
Vil’n, recognizing it, moved a squad out of the trees to await the arrival; he was surprised to see the new troops, but even more so when he saw Garv’n with them.
"Afternoon, sire," Vil’n spoke to Garv’n, when the new troop halted, "are you to accompany us now." Garv’n looked worn and pale from his sickness and the hard ride they must have taken from Tariny, but his face showed great inner strength and determination.
"Yes, Sergeant," Garv’n answered, his breath coming in short burst as though the pain was almost too much to endure. I decided I felt better and was already coming to accompany you when the news of the young boy's death reached us on the road. So we came with greater haste."
Vil’n could tell Garv’n was not going to be able to travel much further without collapsing.
"Let's camp for the night, sire, so we can rest a bit. We think there's a band of thieves approaching from the east and we probably shouldn't expose ourselves to them today."
"You're right, Vil’n. My men need the rest too. We've been riding hard all day," he was breathing easier now and his speech was not so difficult for him, "please have your men take care of the horses."
Vil’n grinned to himself, but said nothing.
How curious this man of wealth and power should be tempted to tell me how to set camp but I'm not harmed and Garv’n obviously feels the need. So be it. He is a good master.
Vil’n motioned to Garv'n's troop leader and the new forces retreated into the stand of trees where Vil’n was hiding his men. Together they set up camp quickly. He and Garv’n sat near a central fire site.
”Sire, why did you come?" Vil’n asked the obvious question.
"I could not bear to miss
the discovery I think these papers will lead us to," Garv'n said, after pausing a moment.
He pulled out the original scrolls, wrapped in leather and tied securely, from his own packs. He held them in his hands, and gazed at them as he talked.
"There are great mysteries in these scrolls, mysteries to stir the blood and inflame our thoughts with their majesty and message.
“I'm not certain I understand it all, but something about these writings speaks of the gods and our existence. I have no other explanation. I have been looking for these for over half my life and I still hardly believe the revelations written here are indeed true. If they are, the world will be changed forever by the discovery of what they reveal and what we are trying to find."
Vil’n was taken back by Garv’n's earnestness. This was beyond anything he imagined. He thought Garv’n wanted to engage in some sort of enterprise with Voravia and these papers he carried were to be the first correspondence with her.
That the papers led to something beyond hadn't occurred to him.
The forward scout sent to take measure of the band of men riding on the road from Varspree, returned and hailed the camp, rode quickly to Vil’n and dismounted.
"Sir, the band continued on to the north without stopping at the forks. I believe they aren't aware of us," he said, catching his breath from his quick ride back.
"May I be excused, sir.” Vil'n nodded and waved his hand in dismissal.
“Good job, soldier. You need a rest.
“Corporal!” Vil'n shouted to a soldier passing by on an errand.
“Get someone to replace the forward scout and send him to the post to watch the forward position," he shouted,
“If you'll excuse me, sire, I have a few things to attend to before nightfall,” he turned back to Garv'n, asking permission to leave.
Garv'n waved his hand in consent.
The corporal stopped a man returning from the woods with an armload of firewood. There was a brief discussion then the soldier dropped his armload onto the pile near the center of the gathering, walked to corralled horses; selected his own, saddled it, then rode through the trees without hesitation.
"We shouldn't have a large fire tonight. Make several small ones around the perimeter and move around in the center of the camp, it'll makes us appear to be a larger party," Vil'n had called his corporal over and explained what he wanted done.
The corporal saluted, turned and trotted toward a few of the men. He told them to carry the wood to several points around the grounds. He followed and lit the fires with sparing use of the wood they gathered.
When Vil’n was satisfied the camp was secure, he returned to talk with Garv’n.
"I'm not certain, sire, but I believe young Kyna'r's attacker was looking for something; I don't think it was a random attack. Could anyone know about the scrolls?" he asked.
"I have determined, I believe, no one but you, myself, and the gods know about these writings and what they foretell. I know only one other person who might know.”
“I sent Serl'n to Rab'k with a false message about a need in the south. Serl'n probably saw the scrolls when I was giving him his instructions. He had not returned when I left Tariny."
"You sent a false message to Lord Rab'k, sire? Why?" Vil’n responded, thinking it strange Garv’n might not trust Rab'k.
"I have suspected Rab'k is not providing me with just protection of my wealth; I believe he is forming a power base and intends to take some sort of political stance. He's a very ambitious man. Unfortunately, I believe he will use force to achieve his ends," Garv’n frowned at the thought his handpicked lieutenant might, in fact, be deceiving him.
"I have a number of disturbing reports. I too have a few spies about. I'm supposed to receive daily reports from them -- even here."
Garv'n shook his head and lit a pipe. Vil'n glanced around the camp, pulled his pipe from his side pouch and did the same. The smoke curled around their head, they talked in low tones and finally stopped all together.
The night was quiet. Every one selected a spot to lay bedrolls and relaxed to talk and maybe smoke a pipe before turning in.
“Think I'll turn in, sir. You have a good rest.”
“You, too, son. Tomorrow could be very exciting.”
Vil’n walked the perimeter of his campsite again, stopping to talk to the outposts along the way. He found his own bedroll, lay down with his sword laying near him, and watched the stars.
Vil’n's men were getting a needed rest, especially those who escorted Garv’n. But he was restless; he had a gnawing feeling something wasn't right. The night gave no hint of any danger, but he paced most of it, checking on Garv’n and his men lying at the separate campfires.
All seemed well, but Vil’n was an old soldier. Something was happening; something that bode ill for them. He was disturbed he couldn't put his finger on the reason.
He slept little.
The next morning started with the arrival of a messenger for Garv’n. The rider was escorted to the camp by the scout Vil’n sent to watch the southern route.
Once the messenger was brought into the camp, the scout turned his horse and rode out through the trees and headed south to his post again.
"What messages today, young man?" Garv’n asked, looking up at the boy on the horse. "Jump down and rest. Vil’n, could we get the boy some food and drink?"
He sat down across from the boy, who jumped off his horse and sat on one of the rotting logs strewn about. Garv'n and Vil'n waited until the boy ate some of the food brought to him.
"Sire, the only message I bring is one of tragedy," the boy started.
Garv’n stared back at him expectantly. "Your spy in Lord Rab'k's castle reported. He saw Rab'k kill Serl'n, your servant. The spy said Serl'n told Lord Rab'k about some sort of magic orb, asked for money and just afterward his lordship killed Serl'n, accusing him of theft. His servants disposed of the body."
Garv’n sat stunned.
He would never have thought Rab'k would become an evil man; maybe he read the man's character incorrectly. He had given his complete trust to him. Rab'k seemed to work hard and perform his duties well. From what he was hearing lately, and this message was the most damning, his lordship Rab'k took his position and goals too seriously.
This is disastrous. I can't believe this -- but it must be, no, it is true. How could this man be so treacherous? How can he want power so much he would destroy what I have given him? How could he?"
Garv’n suddenly rose, stopping the boy in mid-sentence. He paled. His face was ashen. He turned quickly and walked toward the outskirts of the camp.
Vil’n gave orders the boy be given a place to rest and followed Garv’n.
"Are you all right, sire?" he asked as he approached Garv’n. He was concerned Garv'n's ill health would be effected by this news and be too much for him to bear. This shock could undermine the health of Garv’n even more.
"Yes, Vil’n, I'm fine. Well, maybe, old friend, I'm not fine, but I shall see yet another day completed. I wish to rid myself of this Rab'k.”
“When we return, I will send for Jond'r. He and I must talk about what he knows and what must be done about this situation. But Jond'r may be in great danger now.”
Vil’n thought for a moment. "All of us may be in great danger, sire. Lord Rab'k has great strength; his hand stretches far across the land. He will not relent to capture, or destruction of whatever he has built, without a fight, I fear."
"You could be right, Vil’n. We have no way of knowing just yet what his power must be. I'll not rest until it is finished; this man hasn't the power to fight the gods, and I believe they are with us." Garv’n spoke solemnly.
Vil’n looked at the lowering sky, gray still in midday, just as the previous day. If he looked to the north, he couldn't help noticing the skies were even darker than overhead. These things he'd noticed for several days; that disturbed him too.
"Tomorrow, we should continue our journey no
rthward," Garv’n continued, breaking Vil’n from his reverie, "we shall see what the gods have in store for us."
I agree with you, Lord Garv’n. The gods will have something in store for us.
Vil’n was recalling some of the horror of the battles in the Varkanian wars; he shivered at the memory.
"The gods usually do have their way, sire. Maybe there will be good fortune for us."
We may need it.
PURSUIT