The Wind and the Void (24 page)

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Authors: Ryan Kirk

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy

BOOK: The Wind and the Void
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He puzzled over this as he rode towards the clan harboring the old man. When he did finally reach them, the old man was waiting for him. Of course he was. The old man would have felt him coming days ago, and there was only one reason Nameless would come this direction.

The clan the old man had joined was a small one, not much more than three dozen people strong. They had no demon-kind with them besides the old man, and he hardly counted. As Nameless approached the old man, he received many more stares of hate than of respect. He pushed the matter aside. They could say what they wanted to about him, but he had saved them. Hopefully someday the stories would reflect the truth.

When Nameless rode close, the old man grinned. “Can’t blame a man for trying.”

Nameless felt a sudden compulsion to explain himself, to get the old man to understand why he was needed. “I need to track down the nightblades. On my own it would take too long. I need your help.”

Nameless stopped suddenly. He may no longer be in charge of the People, but he wouldn’t fall to begging.

The old man was watching him carefully the entire time, and his eyes seemed to see more than he let on. His face was blank, but he nodded. “I will come with you. I had hoped to get away and live peacefully, but there’s no use escaping fate. Allow me to say my farewells.”

Nameless looked at the old man with confusion. To hear him speak of it, they were heading to some great doom, but in reality they were just hunting two nightblades. Nameless had little doubt he could defeat them. The old man wished the clan well and joined Nameless shortly. They turned their horses around and took off, stares of hatred burning into Nameless’ back.

 

They made good time. Despite his companion’s old age, he still rode well. In many ways, his skills with a horse were superior to Nameless’. He did not complain, but when the day’s ride was done, it was clear he was exhausted. Despite the physical exertion of riding, he still used his power every night to keep Nameless updated on what was happening in the land. He spoke not just of the nightblades and their actions, but of everything he could sense.

Nameless was grateful for the information. Even though he had relinquished leadership of the People, he still cared for them deeply and wanted to see them succeed. He was pleased they moved so quickly into the new land. The People had been through many trials in the past few seasons, but those who survived were strong, and the people of the Kingdom couldn’t resist them.

There was a limit to how much the old man could tell him. Nameless could learn about the movements of groups of people, and with the aid of a rough map, he could see how the People were spreading. Most of the time the old man could tell him which groups were clans and which were not, based on the presence of the demon-kind. But without personally knowing who many people were, the old man couldn’t tell him where all of Nameless’ most important adversaries were.

Nameless knew Akira had taken the crown of the Kingdom, and he knew Akira hadn’t been killed at the battle of the Three Sisters. But on his own there was little he could do about it. The old man didn’t know Akira, so he couldn’t pick out his energy from anyone else’s. But the old man could find the boy, the one as fast as the wind, so he was perfect for Nameless’ hunt.

One night, as the old man was using his sense, his eyes opened suddenly. “They are on the move, and fast.”

Nameless fixed him with a stare that doubled as a question. The nightblades had been on the move for days.

“We’ll need to change the way we are heading. Be patient. I’ll find out more.”

The old man closed his eyes and returned to his meditative posture. Nameless quenched his frustration as well as he could. He accepted the old man’s skills were not easy to come by. At one point he had tried to learn them and failed. But patience was not a quality he possessed, especially when the old man teased him with information.

“I see.” The old man had opened his eyes again.

“There are two of us heading towards a group, maybe a hundred people or so. It seems the nightblade is trying to intercept them.”

“Can you tell if the girl is with him?”

Nameless’ companion shook his head. “I have not been able to detect her in many seasons. Not since she was in our land. But they were together when the four pairs attacked, and I see no reason why they would have separated.”

Nameless considered the information carefully. Something important was happening. Two demon-kind wouldn’t attack a group of over a hundred, especially if the group was made of soldiers. Victory wasn’t out of the question, but it was highly unlikely. Even with all their strength, there was a limit to what they could accomplish. If they were attacking a group that size, they had a good reason. It would be a very good reason if the nightblades were trying to stop them.

“There is something else.”

Nameless glanced up.

“I believe one of the monks is with the group. He is flashing his power on a regular basis.”

Everything became clear to Nameless. If one of the monks was acting as a beacon for the demon-kind, they would be with someone of importance. Given the location, it was most likely Akira, or maybe one of his top generals. But about a hundred people would be the correct size for an honor guard. It had to be Akira.

“Can we get there in time?”

The old man shook his head. Nameless was going to barrage him with more questions, to ask if they pushed their horses all night, but he knew the old man had already taken it into consideration. If he said there was no chance, there was no chance.

“When will they meet?”

“Tomorrow, late morning to mid-day, perhaps.”

Nameless didn’t rest well that evening, his mind on the conflict about to occur. The next day he called an early halt. “Even if we can’t make it, I need to know what happens.”

The old man obliged, assuming his meditative posture on the ground. Nameless paced all around him, but the old man opened his eyes soon.

“Are we too late?”

The old man shook his head. “Not for a while yet. You should leave and give me some space. You can’t affect the outcome, and the presence of your energy so close does make this more challenging. Come back at mid-day.”

Nameless, lacking options, took the old man’s advice. To keep his mind occupied he went hunting, finding plentiful small game in the area. When he came back, the sun was high in the sky, and he had killed four rabbits. He was looking forward to the meat they would provide.

His companion was in his meditative state, so Nameless set about making a small fire at a distance. If he must wait, it was best he make himself useful. At the very least, they could have a good meal when this was over.

The rabbits were nearly finished roasting when the old man came and joined Nameless. “I’m glad you have found ways to make yourself useful.”

“What happened?”

The old man turned somber. “We’ve lost two more of our kind.”

Over bites of the rabbit, the old man told what he had sensed, how the demon-kind had attacked, but the boy who was the wind was there just moments later.

“He is strong, you know, and keeps getting stronger every time he fights. And I am sure the girl is with him. One of us died and I couldn’t sense anyone near him. I suspect it was her. No one would loose an arrow in the middle of a crowd.”

Nameless chewed on the information and his rabbit. It wasn’t a surprise, although it was disappointing. Those two nightblades were strong, and the only way they would be killed was if he did it himself. Nameless and the old man finished their meal and returned to the hunt.

 

 

Two days later they came upon the battleground the old man had sensed. The trail of the men and the blood on the ground were all the evidence Nameless needed. That and the two bodies lying right next to the trail. He recognized the pair, and he grieved their loss. They were young, but they had been talented and dedicated.

They dismounted, and Nameless began preparing the rites of passage. He stacked what small wood he could find and cleared the brush from the area. Then he stacked their bodies, gently, on the kindling. He and the old man observed a minute of silence, and Nameless went to work starting a fire. The kindling caught easily, and in only moments the bodies were burning. From nothing they had come, and to nothing they would return. It was the way of all life.

After the fire had died down, Nameless caught a whiff of another scent, another body left out in the open. He walked for a ways, following his nose. The scent was strongest when the wind blew from the north. Nameless moved that way, coming over a small rise and seeing the body he had smelled. It was another young man, dressed in the robes of a monk.

Nameless didn’t care about this body. The man had been weak. There were no signs of struggle, only a head detached from its shoulders in one clean cut. Nameless could imagine what had happened. The monk had spilled everything he knew, and he had still been killed. The secrets meant nothing to Nameless. He had no intention of honoring any of the promises he had made to any of the people of the Kingdom. It was unlike his kind, but survival meant more to him than his honor. He was already vilified among his people, let them have one more fact to stoke their rage. They were alive, and that was all that mattered.

What did matter to Nameless was discovering that his opponents were ruthless. The monk had posed no physical threat to them, and from the look of it he hadn’t even put up a fight. But they still killed him. Nameless approved. They too, were willing to do anything necessary. They would be worthwhile opponents.

Nameless returned to the old man. He could tell something was on his companion’s mind, but he hesitated to speak.

“Out with it. You haven’t held back much before. Why start now?”

“Fair enough. I can see you know what happened here. This was an attack on the king.”

“So?”

“You can also see the paths diverge here. We know the nightblades are heading further north. The king is heading further west.”

Nameless indicated he had better get to the point.

“If you were interested in regaining your honor with the People, the head of a king would be a good way to start. He will cause chaos if left alive.”

Nameless was surprised that he didn’t reject the idea out of hand. The old man was right. If left alone, Akira did seem to have the ability to cause trouble. Nameless had imagined the king was directing troops from someplace hidden, coordinating small attacks that would annoy and disrupt the clans. Now that they knew Akira was with the group, the old man would be able to track them, no matter where they went. Nameless could stop Akira before he caused too much damage. Bringing the head of Akira would go a long way towards repairing his relationship with the clans.

But Akira wasn’t the greatest danger to the clans. He was the easier target, the one that would bring Nameless back into good standing with the People, but he wasn’t the one Nameless had to truly protect the clans from. It was the other two, the wind and the void, who would change the course of events. Akira was an annoyance, but if the two nightblades continued to kill off the demon-kind, or summoned the other nightblades from wherever they hid, their occupation of the land might come to an end. Nameless knew there was only one path forward.

“We ride after the nightblades.”

The old man fixed his stare on the younger man. “We ride towards death, then.”

“So be it.”

The old man sighed, and without further attempts at persuading Nameless, turned his horse towards the north and towards the nightblades.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 19

 

Akira was disappointed to have the two nightblades leave his company. It was more than the fact that they were strong. He was surrounded by strong warriors, and although none of them had the skill or ability of either of the nightblades, it was not their combat prowess he missed. He missed their attitude and levelheadedness. Neither of them were particularly interested in gaining his favor, and their advice to him had always been above reproach. They didn't always see things the same way, but Akira knew he could trust them to speak their minds.

Besides that, he considered the two of them to be friends. It was hard to believe, considering they were nightblades and he was the king of this new kingdom. But fate seemed to make for strange acquaintances, and there was no doubting there were few others that Akira would rather have by his side.

Akira pushed away the thoughts as they rode off. There was no use questioning the decisions of either Ryuu or Moriko. They were going to do what they thought was right. They always had and they always would. And although he missed them, he had to admit that he agreed with them. If Nameless was out hunting them, it was safer for everyone if they were separated.

The information about the monasteries had disturbed Akira more than he let on. He hadn't wanted to say as much in front of the two young warriors, but if the monasteries were to lead their own faction or divide up the land in any way, there was no way the Kingdom could stand against the Azarians. If the land was to have any hope at all, they needed to remain united. The time for petty differences had passed the moment the Azarians came into the Kingdom. Akira didn't want to believe the report, but it made sense, and it explained a lot that had happened over the course of the past two cycles.

Akira conferred briefly with his men, but his decision was made. If Ryuu and Moriko had brought him the truth about the monasteries, he needed to act on it immediately. They were five days ride from the nearest monastery, a small one named Hope. Akira searched his memory for any information about the monastery, but all that came to his mind was that it was one of the smallest monasteries in the land, holding less than a dozen monks the last time he had checked.

It was as good as place to start as any, so Akira and his men headed that direction.

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