A Whisper After Midnight (33 page)

“Your description somewhat spoils the mood, Anienam,” she chided. “Were Elves ever in Delranan? I mean before Man?”

“I’m afraid not, princess,” Faeldrin said from alongside the wagon. “The weather is much too harsh for our kind to thrive. We don’t enjoy the cold very much.”

She laughed. “I don’t either. The drab skies are the worst part. All you see is grey for months on end.”

“Elves need warmth and life. We need to be in the forests, tending to the trees. Our culture lives to take care of nature.”

“Yet you still carry arms and go to war. That seems contradictory,” she said.

“Dire times call for strength. Malweir is a dangerous world. I can’t recall the last time there was a lasting peace.” He paused, lost in thought.

“What hope do we have for the future if peace is just a lie?”

Faeldrin smiled, impressed with her quickness. He turned to Anienam. “She is smart, my friend. Ward this one closely. Such wit is rare. Maleela, peace is not a lie, though it certainly seems like it. It is an unobtainable goal if anything. There are too many strong-willed people for us all to get along, or so that has been my experience. Every ruler seems to think theirs in the only way of doing things. Convoluted at best, considering each race has distinct character traits. Our inherent ability to strive towards what we think is right is both blessing and curse.”

“But without that uniqueness we are all the same. There wouldn’t be any great works of art or monuments to important figures,” she protested. “There wouldn’t be anything remarkable or memorable in the world.”

“As I said, a cruel jest. There are times I wonder if the world would be better off if we all minded our own business and stayed in our own lands,” Faeldrin’s said as his voice turned sour.

Anienam, stifling a yawn, finally spoke up. “The first order of Mages began from a single race. More specifically, a single group of people. They learned they had magic within them, but they weren’t alone. Magic flowed through every race. Soon, the founders roamed the face of Malweir in search of others with the gift. Mages from every race imaginable came to fill the halls of Ipn Shal. A grand time all but lost to the vagaries of time. The Mages brought us all together. They helped make the wonders of the world possible and took light, illumination to those lacking such basic gifts.”

“I was there, Anienam, when Mage-kind disintegrated on itself. The world was not a nice place,” Faeldrin replied tartly. “Sides were drawn. No race remained neutral. They couldn’t, not if they wanted to survive. Even that wasn’t enough. Tens of thousands died for reasons few knew. Even more struggled through the aftermath and attempted to rebuild what little remained of their cultures. Following generations were taught to despise magic and the Mages. I would not be so quick to sing the praises of your ancestors, Anienam Keiss. Not when the hurt is still too real for some of us.”

“I am not accountable for the sins of my fathers,” the wizard said, stiffening. “Regardless of their downfall, the first Mages
were
responsible for bringing Malweir together. Can you imagine how easy it would be for the dark gods and their agents to return if we were all keeping to ourselves? None of us would have a chance. Darkness would return and Malweir would devolve into chaos and hatred.”

“And for their arrogance the Mages were run to extinction,” Faeldrin said. “I am not arguing against you, my friend, but trying to make Maleela see a different point of view.”

“I still don’t completely understand,” she said.

“Very few do,” Anienam said before the Elf could open his mouth. “It was meant to be a grand time. An era of elegance that would ensure peace and tranquility between all races. Our greatest minds conspired to create the crystal of Tol Shere. Through the crystal kings, queens, and petty tyrants would all be on the same level. Knowledge is meant to be shared, not hoarded.”

“A sound practice in theory. Reality is a far different creature,” Faeldrin replied. “Could it not be conceivable that the enemy forced the creation of the crystal? Knowing how fallible mortals are it is easy to think the Dae’shan might have influenced some of the creators. Sometimes even the best of us stumble and fall.”

Anienam had no counter argument. The crystal was made flawed, whether by design or an accident. Half of the Mages turned to darkness under the leadership of Sidian, the order master of the Silver. Anienam prayed and did everything in his power to ensure such a thing never happened again. The death toll from the first war had been horrendous. Almost an entire generation wiped out; far worse than any plague. If the dark gods succeeded in returning, he let the thought die rather than discover the options.

“That is a sad fact of life. Strength does not always translate into wisdom or greatness,” he finally said. “Let us hope we are strong enough to do what’s right for the sake of all of our peoples.”

Faeldrin nodded in agreement. “Wise words. Let us hope.”

They continued in silence for the time being. Each weighed the consequences of their actions. History often forgot the people but the deeds were recorded meticulously. Maleela knew her uncle wanted nothing to do with the crown, leaving her the sole survivor of the family once her father was removed. She didn’t know if she had what it took to become a queen or even how. The doubts gnawed at her confidence, leaving her aching for answers. Anienam saw the failures of his people and the inability of his father to accomplish what he’d spent a lifetime trying. The crystal was lost, presumably destroyed when Sidian was killed. Yet the dark gods continued to attempt their return. Why? How? The answers eluded him. Only Faeldrin rode with confidence. Everything happening now had happened before. He held little reservation that they would happen again. Life was circular, neither beginning nor ending.

“We are close,” Bahr said.

Ironfoot shook his head. “No. The river is still a few hours away. We should gain the shores by dusk.”

“You mean to depart at night?”

“I wouldn’t. The rivers are too fast, too treacherous to navigate in the dark. It would be best to load the boats and post a guard, then leave at first light,” the Dwarf replied.

Bahr shot Boen a quick look to see if he concurred. “You expect trouble this far north? I thought the bandits stayed south, by the desert.”

“Goblins have been seen roving the avenues from the east. We believe they are funneling west to King Badron’s war effort in Rogscroft.”

Bahr refused to believe his brother had stooped so low as to enlist the aid of Goblins. Long considered the scourge of the world by most of the other races, Goblins existed only for fighting. They relished the opportunity to die in battle.
Why in the Hells would Badron want that sort of chaos? He has the Wolfsreik. He could conquer the entire north with their strength
.

“Thord wasn’t very forthcoming with information concerning the war. Understandably of course given his own situation,” Bahr replied. “What else do you know?”

The Dwarf cocked his head, stroking the bone fragments laced into his beard. “Not much really. We’ve confirmed the city fell and chaos has befallen the Delrananian armies. There are whispers of great evil at work.”

“We’ve been hunted by this evil since leaving Chadra,” Boen said through a yawn. “I’d like nothing better than to drop my axe into its skull and be done with this all.”

“Unfortunately it is not the sort of evil than can be killed by conventional weapons,” Bahr countered. “We’ve tried and failed.” He paused to search the skies for signs of their pursuit. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe the Harpies would have given up so easily. “I doubt it will be long before our enemies pick up our trail again. They’ll know we went into Drimmen Delf.”

“But not which way we left,” Boen answered.

“East is the only logical direction. They seem to know where we are heading. How else would you explain them being ahead of us?”

“We should have engaged them better in Fedro,” Boen said. “Rekka’s a sure shot with her bow but there’s no way to know whether we killed the creature or just wounded it. I say we make a stand and end this.”

“End it how?” Bahr asked. “They won’t come anywhere close if they’re smart, which they’ve proven to be time and again. Besides, I believe we have worse to think about. Harpies aren’t much danger and, if what Anienam says is correct, they’re working for agents of the dark gods. Who knows what fell powers they have at their disposal? I think the enemy is going to try harder to stop us the closer we get to Trennaron.”

“I’m not convinced the place exists,” Boen said. “I’ve been across Malweir a dozen times and have never come upon so much as a rumor of it.”

“You shouldn’t discount something just because you lack proper knowledge,” Ironfoot interrupted. “I learned that lesson well over the last few days.”

Eventually the tree line thinned out to a soft, rolling field covered in untouched snow. The air grew colder. Fresh ice crystals shimmered in the low light. They could hear the sound of rushing water. An unending wave of water pouring in from the Northern Sea eventually emptying out into the Brodein Delta and the Southern Ocean. The Fern River was one of the largest fresh water bodies on Malweir. Whole communities sprang up around the waters further down. It took a special breed of Man to live this far north, where winter claimed half of the year.

Bahr’s first sight of the river left him impressed and worried. A storm was coming, but from which direction?

The River Men

Skuld held his breath. He’d never been this far to the east and certainly didn’t believe such an expansive body of flowing water could exist. The Fern River was massive, spanning more than three hundred meters across. He felt infinitesimal. Raging waters rushed by in an unending flow. The warmth was stolen from the air, leaving beast and Man shivering. Ducks and sterling geese clustered on the far shore. An eagle circled overhead, screening for a quick meal.

Skuld sucked in his breath and whistled low. “I never thought something like this existed.”

Anienam smiled. “It is a grand sight, but minimal considering all we’ve seen thus far. Not to mention what we’ve got coming to us.”

“I had hoped the worst was behind us,” the boy commented slowly.

Anienam laid a soft hand on Skuld’s shoulder. “One can never tell where the road will lead. All we can do is forge ahead and plan for the best and worst.”

Dorl crawled from the wagon bed and stretched. He listened carefully to Anienam, disappointed with what he heard. A boy like Skuld didn’t need the doom and gloom speeches. He was too young to process it all. Shaking his head, the sell sword ambled over to Nothol.

“You hear that?” he asked.

Nothol nodded. “He’s just being himself.”

“Is that what it’s called? He’s filling the boy’s head with end-of-the-world scenarios. It’s not right, Nothol. We’ve come too far and been through too much to let him demoralize Skuld.”

“Demoralize? That’s a big word for you,” Nothol joked. “I think Rekka is giving you a little culture.”

Dorl barely missed with the rock he halfheartedly threw. “More than that. I never met a Woman like her. Damn it! Stop trying to change the subject. What he’s doing is wrong, Nothol. Mark my words, no good will come of it.”

“He’s acted the same way since we first left Chadra,” the bigger Man replied. “I don’t see any cause for concern now. Besides, he’s done just as much to keep us moving unhindered as the rest of us. Well, all but Ionascu. I still don’t see why we keep him around.”

Because Bahr won’t let us get rid of him properly
. “We still have plenty of time to see if he accidentally falls into the river, or worse.”

“Murder isn’t my style.”

“Not mine either but I don’t fancy waking up with a knife across my throat either,” Dorl replied. “That Man is twisted.”

Ionascu suffered the worst out of all of them in Harnin’s dungeons. They’d beaten and broken him until his mind snapped, leaving a shell of a Man. Now he laughed for no reason and gave them guarded looks. Everyone knew it was just a matter of time before he attempted to kill one of them yet Bahr and Anienam reasoned that he still had some small part to play in the coming days and weeks. What, neither could say.

“No point in worrying about that. I say we do what we’ve always done. You watch my back and I watch yours. The Sea Wolf will get us out of this. If anyone can I know it’s him.”

“I don’t understand your blind faith,” Dorl said. “Bahr’s getting old and tired. He’s making more bad decisions and the risks only get higher.” His voice dropped to a bare whisper. “Do you think it might be time to pull out of this little endeavor?”

“Abandon him now?”Nothol asked even quieter.

Dorl shrugged. “We did what we signed on for. We rescued the princess and brought her back. Our contract is fulfilled.”

“We can’t abandon him now. The old Man is going to need as many friends as he can get if he’s to find the Blud Hamr and bring it back,” Nothol protested. The idea of giving up on his friend and going against his word sickened his stomach. A Man was nothing without his word.

“You really think we stand a chance? How come the wizard hasn’t said where we’re supposed to bring the Hamr? How we use it? When? There are way too many variables for me. None of this feels right.”