The Starfall Knight (10 page)

“So, I’ve messed up again.”  Devan wheeled his horse around.  “Sorry.”  He urged his mount forward.  Even though night had fallen, Devan could probably return to the scouting site at a trot.

“Wait,” Benton called out.

“What is it?”

“It’s unusual, I’ll admit.”  Benton pursed his lips.  “Be wary.  Keep your weapons close.  It could turn ugly.”

“I just didn’t want to be without new information,” Devan said.  “I didn’t want another Verovel.”

“The best thing you can do is return to your post.”

Devan nodded and rode out.

“Douse all lights!”

The order rippled out from the look-out point and runners dashed out to spread the word to the rest of Sirinis.  With the setting sun indirectly glowing across their path, Alessa knew that Tarius’ order was more of a precaution.  If anyone on Sirinis didn’t know the news by now, they were deep into a virid trance or dead.

The afternoon had passed more quickly than Alessa realised.  Her father had descended into the cave on several occasions to adjust their course while Nasius and Dene maintained a vigil alongside Tarius.  Alessa could guess the reason – distances were notoriously difficult to judge even with clouds.  The aerock and its attached allies kept surprising them as Sirinis drew closer, soon becoming apparent that Vantanis’ estimate had been vastly conservative.

The wind shifted – Sirinis had slowed, giving them at least another hour until close contact.  Tarius peered at the aerock.  “What sort of people are able to tug along entire aerocks?”

“They must have great resources,” Alessa said.

“Yes,” Tarius said.  “It will be a challenge.”  To Nasius, he said, “How many thrashers have you gathered?”

“Five hundred.”  Nasius watched the massive aerock with crossed arms.  The former trader had grown more subdued as the afternoon turned to dusk.

“And you, Dene?”

“Eight hundred, Imperator.”

“Good.  I’ll field a thousand even.”  Tarius cast a sidelong glance at his rivals.  “Mustn’t take too many cats away, lest the mice play.”

Dene snorted and stepped away to confer with her retinue of thrashers.

Vantanis appeared, taking the steps two at a time.  “Progress?”

“You’ve done well, Vantanis,” Tarius said.  He grunted to himself.  “If my eyes don’t deceive me...”

“What is it?”

Alessa examined the aerock in the deepening gloom.  Lights twinkled along the eastern edge, fires that sparkled behind a canopy of trees.

“It’s not a town,” Vantanis said.

“No.”  Tarius chewed on his lower lip.  “A town would have smoke, wide fields, roads.  Those lights are partially blocked.”

“It’s a camp,” Alessa said.

“One to welcome us,” Tarius said.

“That’s a lot of camp-fires.”

“Yes.”  Tarius hopped down from the look-out platform.  Alessa and Vantanis followed as he approached Dene and Nasius.  “A camp that size must be at least a hundred strong.”

“We can overpower them,” Alessa said.

Tarius shook his head.  “No, lass.  Even if the terrain allowed us to fire all of our grapples at once, we’d only be able to cross five or ten at a time.”

“Then, we find that terrain, form up and march on them.”

“Without knowing who they are?  A people who have the knowledge and skill to drag along entire aerocks?  No, I’d not take that gamble.”

“Besides,” Vantanis said, “there are rules and protocols for aerocks to approach and meet.”

“Is that what those flags are for?” Alessa asked.

“Yes,” her father said.  “If we ignore them completely and attach without permission, they will cut our ropes.”

“We must gain landfall,” Tarius said.  “We need food.  That’s the hard truth.”

Nasius and Dene turned as they approached.  The younger woman smirked at Tarius.  “We heard most of ya conversation,” she said.  “Now what?”

“We can’t take it by surprise and sword,” Tarius said, “that much is obvious.”

“What do you suggest?” Dene asked.

Tarius gestured at Alessa and her heart skipped again.  “Subterfuge.”

“What orders?” Rika asked as Devan settled back in their camouflage.

“None, apart for the usual.  Anything to report?”

“Naw.  It’s just been creeping up alongside us for the past hour.  It’s dark.”

“It’s night.”

Rika punched Devan’s shoulder.  “The aerock, you moon-addled moron.  It’s like there’s no one on it.  Even on the smallest ones, you can see lamps and whatnot.”

Devan nodded.  “Benton said to keep our weapons close.”

The aerock floated past, velocity from the storm faded.  Devan thought he could make out the silhouette of structures dotting the flat surface but it might’ve been a trick of the dusk.  The underearth of the aerock seemed shallow.

Next to him, Rika shifted.  Devan rested a hand on her shoulder.  “Wait for it to pass.”

“Uhuh.”

Like all aerocks, there was no sound other than the breeze of displaced air, the rustle of leaves.  The occasional clang of a township drifted on the wind but this aerock remained silent.  The tail-end passed their position and Devan nudged Rika.

They packed their gear and walked their horses, keeping the aerock ahead of them to ensure that there were no crossings in the dark.  As they approached the army enclave, there was no doubt that the aerock would soon slow to a stop.

Rika hesitated as they passed the trail that led to their ranger camp but Devan continued as was their duty.  The aerock drifted past the army enclave, still a dark, silent mass.  A company of soldiers emerged from the enclave, their polished armour reflecting with red tints from their military tabards.

The aerock lurched, halting with a slight tilt.  Devan gasped.  Impossible.  There must’ve been a gust of wind in the opposite direction – or perhaps the aerock had been trapped in a jet stream just outside Centara.  Rika hadn’t noticed it, her attention fixed on the soldiers trailing the aerock close to Centara’s edge.

A ballistae cracked.  Devan tugged on his reins, pulling his mount around.  No, it wasn’t Centaran.  The echoes faded.  The tell-tale whistle met Devan’s ears as he searched the darkness.

“There!” Rika said.

A grappling bolt slammed into Centara, rope dangling behind it.  Even from a distance, Devan could hear the jangle of armour and shouted orders as the military company formed up in a defensive semi-circle.

“That was a boarding grapple,” Devan said.

“But the other aerock hadn’t signalled back.”

Devan didn’t reply.  Grappling another aerock without permission was a cardinal breach of protocol and was usually the prelude to hostilities.  Centara had endured attacks before but Devan was always reminded of the worst he had experienced, that of Verovel.

Another ballistae clacked and a bolt pierced Centara.  The attached white flag rippled in the wind.

Chapter Six

Devan tramped through the path which had been churned to mud from the expansion of the enclave from military camp to small village and now a major way-station.  Several marquees sprang up overnight to accomodate even more Councillors, their staff and the increased need for supplies.  Devan passed stalls of entreprenurial merchants who had arrived in the morning and set up shop straight away.  The baskets of fruit, dried meat and stale bread were slim pickings for soldiers and rangers who wanted more than their usual rations.

Devan wriggled underneath his leather armour and checked his sword and shortbow – all was in order for the day.  Devan passed the outer barricade of the adhoc settlement and spotted the rest of his squad in green tabards, mingling with the rush of regular citizens heading to the new anchor-point.  The army had set up a cordon to keep the crowd at bay as well as a rough aercarriage with cabling attached to the new aerock.  Quick and shoddy work, if Devan were any judge.

“Morning.”  Devan fell into step behind Benton as the others greeted him.  Sergeant Lora formed them up and they marched to the new way-station.

“Any news?”

“None yet,” Benton said.

With the bright morning sun, the new aerock appeared even smaller than Devan had first guessed.  He spotted a few clouds of smoke – sure signs of settlement – but apart from the outer ridge, the aerock was unusually flat.  Still, the unknown mass of earth hovering so close to Centara sent Devan’s nape prickling.

As they took their position near the cordon, the Centaran soldiers sent the aercarriage across the gap.  A longwing soared overhead, circling once and heading back over Centara.  Devan caught Benton’s gaze and his brother nodded reassuringly.  Benton always looked the part of Captain, especially in their full ranger gear.

Councillors Arlena and Marwin entered the cordon, escorted by their retinue and city guards.  All aerocks were greeted by Council members but failing that, a Master of the city attended.  The first grappling bolt had been uninvited so Devan guessed that a message had been included with the white flag on the second bolt – enough to draw out two Councillors.

The crowd hushed as the aercarriage made landfall on the other side.  Devan squinted in the morning glare and made out four nondescript figures entering the carriage.  The army operators hauled on the cable, bringing the aercarriage back to Centara.  The pulleys squeaked with every revolution.

“They were wearing robes,” Rika said.

“Are you sure?”

“Got younger eyes than you.”

“First time you’ve been proud to be a child.”

Benton shot them a glare as Lora hissed, “Quiet.”

The aercarriage landed on Centara and a squad of soldiers secured it to the ground.  The doors opened and a woman and three men emerged.  Rika wore a slight smile – as she had said, the new arrivals wore robes, albeit of roughspun cloth and stained with mud.  The oldest man, in his forties, had short black hair and wide shoulders.  The other men, younger and perhaps around Devan’s age, had close-cropped hair and deferred to their older companion.  The woman struck Devan as pretty, underneath the grime and knotted blonde hair.

Councillor Arlena approached the newcomers and said, “Welcome to Centara!  I am Arlena, Councillor of Centara City.”

The group bowed as one.  The man with black hair said, “Our thanks and praise to the moons for answering our call.  I am Brother Vantanis.  These are my fellows Alessa, Leonus and Pelio.”

“We read of your plight in your message,” Arlena said.  “We will help you as we can.”

“Many thanks,” Vantanis said with another bow.  “We are humble servants of the moons.  We do not ask for charity.  We are able to trade for water and food.”

“As you wish, Brother Vantanis.”

Alessa grasped her hands beneath the voluminous sleeves of the itchy robe.  She clenched her fingers together, resisting the urge to throw off the malodourous cloth and scratch her skin.  But no, moon worshippers were a calm people.  Aerians, Vaereans, Tynians, she repeated silently to herself.  From aerock Dwer.  Definitely not Sirinese.

The old Councilwoman prattled on about their protocols and the establishment of the way-station.  Alessa turned her attention to the massive aerock which the locals called Centara.  Verdant grass and forest stretched over the hillocks to the west – Alessa had only read of such a vibrant land in her father’s books.  She didn’t know that they actually existed.  Moons above, but everything – and everyone – was so clean.  Other aerocks that the Sirinese had raided were pitiful in comparison.

The Councilwoman finished her speech and Vantanis nodded.  He replied, “We understand the need and will comply with your wishes.  In fact, they coincide with our own.”

“Oh?” Councillor Arlena said.  “What may we do?”

“Our brothers and sisters upon aerock Dwer have chosen particular vows,” Vantanis said.  “Among them chastity, frugality and some have even taken upon silence and solitude.”

“I see,” Councillor Arlena said.  “And isolation will aid their meditation and study.”

“Just so,” Vantanis said with a smile.  “Our faith is strong but by the same token, we should not look for trouble or distraction.”

“I understand.  Well, having only four representatives on Centara seems to fall into your plans as well.”

“Indeed.”

“I shall leave you in the capable hands of Captain Marzell,” Arlena said.  One of the soldiers took a step forward, removed her helm and saluted.  Alessa had never seen such shiny armour before.  The captain’s red tabard displayed a stylised tree over water.

“Welcome!” Captain Marzell said.  Councillor Arlena and her retinue headed north, the crowd parting without a single grumble.  “Please, this way.”

Captain Marzell gestured to the south where a tent village had grown – the source of the camp-fires that Alessa had seen from Sirinis the previous evening.  She followed her father, Leonus and Pelio as Captain Marzell and her squad of soldiers escorted them to the settlement.  The crowd of onlookers dispersed, some trailing alongside them while others followed Arlena to the north.

“Will you be handling the affairs of aerock Dwer?” Captain Marzell asked Vantanis.

“I shall,” Vantanis replied with the sagely nod.  “Alessa and I are the chief points of contact.  Brothers Leonus and Pelio have taken vows of silence but they have capable hands and will assist with our trading.”

Leonus and Pelio showed no obvious signs of disagreement.  Alessa thought Leonus’ lips twitched but he knew, as did they all, that Tarius had truly given her and Vantanis the lead in this venture.

“Please, tell me of your people,” Vantanis said to Captain Marzell.

“Not much to tell,” Marzell replied.  “We’re not any different to other aerocks you’ve seen in your travels, I’m sure.  Centara city lies to the north-west.  We are ruled by an elected Council and we offer trade to those who are willing.”

“We could not help but notice other aerocks attached to Centara.”

“Yes, our allies.  With our resources and land pooled together, we have enough farmland and wilds to support our population while ensuring sustainable harvests and hunts.”

“A most beneficial arrangement.”