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Amaranthéa
Chapter Twenty-five - Rage Unbound

Chapter Twenty-five - Rage Unbound

Darius had not lied when he said the journey would be uncomfortable. But Valinos had committed to the plan, even if his current position was less than pleasant. So it was, on a cold Windsell morning, that Darius marched out of Fara’ethar fiery and swift, riding his steed while Valinos hung on like a knapsack.

The diversion had worked. Or at least, Valinos supposed it did, as his ride was black and bumpy, with nary a chance to truly take in what was happening. Before the sun had woken, Darius caused a commotion at the barracks. What the people witnessed was a seemingly rogue and unruly Amarant breaking into the weapons quarters for an unauthorised withdrawal, shortly before a forced entry into the stables had him flee the castle with a hostage.

That hostage, of course, was Valinos, now enjoying a ride tied and blindfolded, slung over Masìlminur’s rump. From his ‘pride of place’ Valinos heard further struggles and orchestrated manoeuvres which sold the performance. A company of soldiers was knocked to the ground in the horse’s flight. There was cursing and shouting, from both Amarant and would-be opponents. A dramatic escape through closing gates and a rush into the open markets told this story: Amarant Darius had defected.

Valinos wished he could see the faces of the surprised and confused bystanders as the whispers rose. Alas, for his apparent peril to remain conspicuous, it meant that he could not be privy to their reaction.

Darius did not ease his hard ride for a few watches, at least. Eventually, they were out of the cramped quarters of Guladran and into redolent plains and open air. It was difficult to breathe through the sack Darius had thrown over his head, but Valinos could tell from the fresher air when they had exited the city grounds.

‘How are you feeling?’ Darius called behind him.

‘Like my ribs are being rolled over stones,’ Valinos said in a muffled voice.

Darius chuckled. ‘Just a bit longer, then we can take a break.’

Valinos grunted.

‘The land is beautiful at this time of day,’ Darius said, as the earthquake of Masìlminur’s hoofs trod onwards.

Valinos groaned at the Amarant’s sense of humour, but he cracked a sly, unseen smile beneath his covering. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

Darius’ sole answer was to turn the horse in a way Valinos was sure deliberately made the weapons and supplies dig into his side more.

As the day heated up and Valinos started to sweat, he tried to remember that his time among fire and metal in the forge was sometimes just as uncomfortable. The memories which came back, of Paran and life in Silnodìr, were interrupted by rocky shudders and violent bounces.

The break in the journey could not have come too soon. With relief, Valinos noted Darius was slowing down. The Amarant brought Masìlminur to a stop and hopped off. When the sack came off, Valinos took a deep, welcome breath and squinted at daylight’s assault.

Darius seized Valinos and hauled him off the horse, setting him upright and keeping a hold on him while Valinos wiggled life back into his feet. His back complained as he stretched and he could not tell whether his spine or his ribs ached more.

Darius reached into a pouch and brought out a flat, leathery waterskin.

‘For the bruising,’ he said, holding it out for Valinos to take.

It was cold to the touch. Valinos reached under his jerkin and doublet and pressed the waterskin to his side. He shivered as the pack soothed some of his soreness.

‘Make sure you drink from it too, after,’ Darius said as he set to unpacking further supplies.

As Valinos’ eyes adjusted to the brightness, he noticed they were in the shade of an unfamiliar mesa. Ridges made angular shapes around them, coloured like sandstone but for scant patches of vegetation.

‘Where are we?’ Valinos asked.

‘Northeast, en route to Taeladran, but further from the forest.’

Valinos nodded. ‘We’re wanting to avoid our visitor from last time, I suppose?’

‘That, and there are some settlements along this road, as well as some streams. It will give us a chance to stock up on water for the road.’

Darius took a bite out of what looked like a plain wheatcake and broke some off for Valinos. Clearly, lunch was not going to be anything succulent and rich.

‘We’ll take the long route,’ Darius continued. ‘This way, we’ll be seen and heard, but that’s what we want. We want word to spread. Hopefully, the story precedes our arrival. Unfortunately, this will mean more longsuffering on your part.’

‘Emphasis on suffering,’ Valinos said with a grimace. He shifted the waterskin’s position on his body.

‘Give it a little over a tide. The rumours will be strong enough. That’s all people need. A glimpse of something that tickles their desire for that which is out of the ordinary, something to talk about. A spark to spread half-truths like wildfire.’

‘How do you think the others are faring?’

‘More well-off than you, I wager.’ Darius clasped Valinos’ shoulder with a laugh.

‘That hurt,’ Valinos said with a wince.

Darius chucked. ‘You’re made of strong stuff, boy. This is a decent plan.’ He looked off into the distance for a while before speaking. ‘A division of soldiers will have left Fara’ethar by now. Ostensibly, they are to pursue me. People will be watching and will spread further news of a renegade Amarant. To them, it will appear that the Empire’s armies have given up somewhere near the forest and returned home fruitless. Of course, we’re counting on the common man’s inability to count, for not all the soldiers will turn back.’

‘And so, little by little, the army moves in to the forest and meets us out near the Eye?’

‘That’s right. They’ll repeat that process a few times and get our forces into Gohenur. That’s why the need for us to delay a bit. We don’t want to show up at the Eye unassisted.’

Valinos lifted the waterskin out and took a drink. He stretched his neck and arms, steeling himself for another stint in the hostage’s position.

‘Darius?’ he asked.

‘Yes, lad?’

‘Can we train some more, before we set out again?’

Darius accosted him with one of his icy stares. ‘For what purpose?’

‘You know better than I do that this expedition is likely to take a turn for the worse. I want to be of as much use as I can. Besides, I need to really move before you tie me up again.’ Valinos reached for his two blades, hidden among the baggage, and set himself into a stance.

‘Fine,’ Darius said. ‘We can have a bout now since we are unseen, but we’ll ride twice as far tonight.’

Valinos gave a taunting smile and signalled his readiness. The Amarant reached for Blackfrost.

This would be helpful, Valinos thought, when the time came. He had tried. He had tried to keep his mind clear. He had tried to keep a cool head. But he could not fully shake the feeling he was gripped by when he realised where he was headed. He was on a collision course with those who had thrown his life in turmoil. And whatever happened, even if not for true payback, he would at least pry for some answers.

After the training, the painful ride continued as the day dragged on. With few words and fewer stops, Amarant Darius rode out with the severity of one heading to war. In a way, that is what awaited Valinos as well. He once again reflected on how distant a concept war had been formerly, when he had simply been a supplier of tools and implements, before being caught in its winds.

Without a way to tell the time, Valinos went from one pang of discomfort to another. Only the cooling temperature told him that night was approaching. He tried focusing on other things; Fen’asel’s scent when she was close, the freedom he had felt in the sky, the delight Asphales had seen even through the dark turns of this journey. All these things worked like a gentle balm, numbing his mind’s painful fixation on his body.

Masìlminur galloped ever onwards. Valinos heard passing streams in blissful flow, caravans of puzzled traders, and herds of grazing animals. The merchants had proved most interesting, as they informed Darius he was not the first Kerenani they had seen along the road this day, a fact the Amarant had clearly found odd. They rode on for a few more watches, more silent still.

At length, Darius had them stop by a watering hole. With the blindfold off again, Valinos took in different colours than when he could last see – now the soft blue and indigo of night. He refreshed himself with a drink and stretched throbbing limbs.

‘How are you feeling, lad?’ asked Darius.

‘I had forgotten what clean air tastes like. I sincerely hope there will be something left of me to hand over to the Order at journey’s end.’

‘Indeed, otherwise this whole endeavour is futile. In a way, you could say you hold this entire quest together, boy.’

Valinos laughed and refilled his waterskin. He looked around. Here, with no town’s lights on the horizon, the night’s brilliance took centre stage. The stars shone bright, as Valinos had rarely seen. Even Darius, standing close by, was a silhouette against the cosmic lights.

‘What’s up ahead?’ Valinos asked, looking at an indistinct horizon of black, cut-out shapes.

‘We’ll come within a few leagues of Taeladran once we leave this valley. From there, it’ll be a harder trek as the land steepens.’

‘Taeladran? Are we still welcome there?’

‘Probably not. But at least it will not be hostile.’

Valinos stoppered his waterskin and put it away. ‘Alright, I’m ready.’

‘Not just yet. We can stop here for the night, lad. Let’s find a place to camp, away from the road.’

Valinos was glad for the darkness, as he was sure the relief on his face would have been visible. He returned to the horse and assisted with packing away some supplies. Darius led the steed over a ridge beyond the watering hole and into some rocky nooks. Shielded away from a cold night breeze, Valinos made bedding with several blankets. Darius had gone a bit further on to take care of Masìlminur. The Amarant did not return by the time Valinos slipped into a short and fitful sleep.

The second day came with much the same patterns as before. An unpleasant early start, long stretches of sore riding, and dwelling on better thoughts to remind Valinos that this will all have been worth it.

On this day, they had passed by larger villages on the Empire’s eastern front. Fara’ethar still had presence here, as evidenced by the posted guards. Darius chose to heckle these guards on their duty, making comments of an unrefined nature toward the Empire. From what Valinos could tell, the Amarant had even picked up a spear and hurled it at a group of shocked soldiers. No one had been wounded, but the effect had been palpable. And within a day, news from the castle will have met the reports coming in from the hinterland and the resulting maelstrom of infamy would have repercussions reaching the Order’s ears. That was the hope, at least. All they would need to do is continue on this road, degrading Darius’ reputation (and Valinos’ body) until the moment of payoff.

The third day saw Darius and Valinos turn north. The city of Taeladran was a distant but distinct feature to their left, its gleaming stone walls jutting out against the flatter land and sky. Seeing it brought fresh memories of what Darius had done, and fresh struggles with the consequences that action had wrought.

‘How do you really feel about your dismissal?’ Valinos probed.

Darius was not forthcoming in answering.

‘I mean,’ Valinos tried again, ‘the world is potentially ending and they’re worried about protocol? Didn’t you do the right thing?’

‘That’s a dangerous way of thinking,’ Darius said. ‘The rightness of a result doesn’t justify the means of its action. Yes, I believe I was right, but I believe what has befallen me as a consequence is right also. I cannot accept one without the other. Otherwise, we’d be no better than the Order, who desire the easy answers afforded by rash methods and kick against the goads of consequence.’

‘You know them well, don’t you?’

Amarant Darius said no more that afternoon until meal break, where he did not seem keen to answer the question but steered conversation toward lighter matters. Valinos groaned inwardly but gratefully accepted the Amarant’s cooking. Along the way, Darius had procured additional ingredients from the itinerant merchants and was now able to offer up something more than stale wheatcake and dry fruit. The heartier meal went some way toward alleviating Valinos’ aching body and he savoured the time he was able to spend on his own two legs.

It was a shame when the cowl had to go back on and he was thrown over the side of the steed again, for the tousled forests and winding rivers around them were picturesque. Ahead, the contours of the Undorn mountains grew ever closer.

The ride picked up again (as did the pain) as the Amarant turned east once more. Valinos could hear another batch of townsfolk and passers-by point and shout as Darius sped past. More fuel for the fire of rumour.

Well-worn thoughts for comfort seemed to be less effective now, and Valinos’ mind ruminated on the earlier conversation. That is what I need. A determination to accept that what I’m doing is right, regardless of the cost. He aspired to this one thing: that he would, in time, determine what needed doing for himself and wrench strength from somewhere to follow through with it.

By the fourth day, Taeladran was receding behind them, and Darius and Valinos took more frequent breaks, owing to the harder going over the hills. Nearer the mountains, the autumn chill was even more pronounced. Valinos put on another jacket, while Darius donned his signature pelt coat. Keeping them going was the thought that the journey’s difficulty would pay dividends. They had left a trail of gossip in their wake as the sight of a lone Amarant with a prisoner in tow spawned confusing and conflicting news.

Around a fire, Valinos spared a glance toward the forest. To the north, he could see Gohenur snaking along with the lay of the land. He wondered how Asphales’ own journey was progressing. This had been the longest the two were separated since setting out from Silnodìr.

Darius’ mood had changed, and he appeared more nervous, glancing around them and shifting constantly, on the lookout for something Valinos could not guess at. When asked, he simply said that ‘the words of those traders have set me on edge.’ Valinos did not know what significance the presence of a Kerenani portended but Darius stayed tight-lipped on the matter. Some family history, perhaps?

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At least the food had improved. For between the stints of harder trekking, Valinos witnessed Darius’ hunting prowess and camping at night in the cold now at least had the benefit of warm, cooked game.

It was as one such break came to a close and the two were preparing to head off again that something of a snag interrupted what had so far been a smooth plan. Valinos had collected his gear and was carrying it back to Masìlminur. Stepping into the clearing where the horse was stationed, he found it empty. Then, he was distracted by a ruffled bush. Given their sheltered position, it was not the wind. A scurrying hill creature, maybe?

He stepped closer, but some instinct drove him to leap to the side when he caught a glint in the air. A moment later, the blade of a throwing axe collided with the stone wall behind him, shooting sparks. Valinos crashed to the ground, spilling his collected belongings. He rolled to a stop and snapped his gaze to the bush. His hands felt for his swords among the debris.

A shape crept out, more a shadow since the light was so low.

‘Darius!’ Valinos yelled.

‘So, he is here,’ the assailant said. ‘Looks like we’ve found ye.’ The man from the bush whistled. At his signal, several others figures appeared above the stones. Valinos panicked. His shaking hand found one of his swords and he stood up, drawing it.

‘Looks like pup wants to play,’ one of the men above goaded. Two others hopped down.

Valinos stepped back, feeling his way through the rocky passage back to the campsite, his eyes on the approaching figures. Then one materialised as if from nowhere and swung. Valinos brought up his sword wildly, barely in time to connect with the assailant’s weapon. He stumbled backwards and ran for the campsite.

Emerging out into the open space, the fire was still blazing. Breathing hard, Valinos look around for Darius. The Amarant was already prepared. He charged out from behind the flames, Blackfrost equipped, and hacked at the figure who had followed Valinos. The man yelled and fell back into shadow.

‘Are you alright?’ Darius asked, his eyes ahead on other emerging figures.

‘Yeah,’ Valinos wheezed.

‘Good. Stay behind me.’

‘Let me help,’ Valinos hissed. ‘I’ll show you that I have been paying attention to your lessons.’

Darius nodded. Valinos prepared his stance and collected his thoughts. He had not been in a true fight since the encounter in Gohenur. How long ago that seemed. He brought up a trembling blade.

Be still, you fool. His hand continued to shake. Be still, damn you. Gulren did not listen.

‘What do you want?’ Darius called out as the men assembled before him. There were five out in the open. Valinos could not tell if the man who had been at the unfortunate end of Darius’ blade had rejoined them, or if there were others hidden in the shadow still. But he could discern these were Kerenani mercenaries, armed with axes and swords, wearing fur and steel. And even in the weak light of the fire, their blond hair and facial features bore striking resemblance to Darius’ own.

‘As if you don’t know what your head’s worth, krahat.’

‘Right. By your own admission, you’re after me.’ Darius’ voice lowered, becoming colder than the night. ‘So tell me, why did you attack my friends?’

‘Anyone associated with you deserves the same,’ one of them yelled out and rushed forward. If he intended to take the Amarant by surprise, the man failed. With ferocious speed, Darius brought Blackfrost up to meet the man’s charge. A blink later, and the man laid down dead, his head several feet away from his crumpled body.

One of the mercenaries, with more sense and weapons than the others, looked at the corpse and spat. ‘Fanhus was a fool. Together, men.’

Feet scraped dirt behind Valinos. He spun in fear and noticed three other mercenaries encroaching, grinning.

‘Who’s the lad with you?’ asked one of the mercenaries. ‘Some bastard son of yours?’

‘You’d be wise not to touch him,’ Darius said. ‘He’s worth more than me. And you’ll have more than my ire to face if any harm befalls him.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Why don’t you ask Cerus, that old imbecile? I would wager he’s courting far more than he can handle, as is his custom.’

‘You dare insult our king?’

‘I do. When he’s blind to how his supposed allies maraud his own shores? When the Order has him dance to their tune? Weakling.’

Valinos started. Kerena and the Order, allies? When had Darius pieced that together?

‘I understand now,’ the mercenary at the front said. ‘Horkhen!’ he barked. The word sparked action from the others, who approached in unison with weapons drawn. Valinos and Darius each retreated until they were back-to-back, close to the fire.

‘What are you doing?’ Valinos asked. ‘And what do we do?’

‘You’re making it to the Eye, with or without me,’ Darius whispered.

Valinos had no time to voice further complaints as the mercenaries closed in. He focused on the one directly ahead of him. The rush made him forget the burning in his back and ribs.

Remember your training. You are not the same weakling anymore. He looked for tell-tale signs in the enemy’s movement, indicators of what he would do. A twitch in the hand, a brusque jerk of the face.

The warrior moved as expected, and Valinos responded accordingly. Gulren sailed swiftly and left a mark across the mercenary’s arm. The man growled and retaliated with a charge. Valinos spun. He blocked the incoming axe, but quickly stepped back to keep track of another mercenary, nearing fast. He caught a glimpse of Darius block two men at once with Blackfrost’s length and push them back. Another swing downed a third approaching victim.

But there were too many. Between keeping eyes on his own targets, Valinos spotted yet another get close to Darius, unnoticed. Valinos cursed his distance and inability to get close. He blocked more swings from his own assailants and watched with terror as the unseen man approached the Amarant. Valinos started to scream Darius’ name.

Not here. Not again.

Valinos felt sluggish. The firelight threw shifting, flickering shadows on the stones. One of these shadows did not look human.

Suddenly, the sound of trotting hoofs arose. The shape Valinos had noticed belonged to Masìlminur. The stallion rushed in and knocked the man behind Darius to the ground. Cries from the mercenaries rose as they had to contend with the wildly charging horse in their midst.

In tow, other horses followed, these ones bearing riders. Wide-eyed, Valinos stared as the newcomers stampeded through the campsite and brought several men down with their blades. In the wild show of flame and shadow, he recognised the man at their head. Bald, scarred, and burly, Captain Kasil of Taeladran had somehow found them and was now saving them.

Valinos breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Darius unharmed, himself glancing around in surprise. ‘Keep one alive, at least,’ the Amarant shouted to the captain.

The captain’s forces routed the mercenaries. Those who had not fallen scrambled back to the narrow rocky passages, probably heading for their own mounts to escape. Darius pounced on one man who had been too slow to get away. He brought the mercenary down into dirt and restrained him, while the captain’s horsemen rounded the campsite and secured the area.

Valinos signalled his thanks as Captain Kasil passed by on his steed. He dismounted and approached. The moonglint blade he now carried shimmered distinctly along his belt. Darius had just finished tying up the man on the ground and slipped the hood over his face. He stood and greeted the captain by clasping his hand.

‘I didn’t expect to see you around these parts so soon,’ Kasil said in his usual staid tone.

‘Considering what happened, that is a fair expectation,’ Darius replied. ‘How did you find us?’

‘Odd tidings had reached Taeladran about a rogue Amarant and I set out to investigate. There were reports also of some Kerenani prowling about. I thought surely the Kerenani I know is not so stupid as to return to the place from which he was so unceremoniously released.’

Darius smiled.

‘We were nearby,’ the captain continued, ‘when your steed intercepted us and led us right to you. Quite the creature you’ve got there.’

So that’s where Masìlminur ran off to, Valinos thought.

‘While I am grateful for the assistance, captain, I’m afraid this sortie has complicated our plight.’ Darius proceeded to explain, in brief, the circumstances which had led to their peril, omitting key details about the nature of their task.

‘Can I assist in any way?’ the captain asked. ‘I’m sorry I cannot offer you refuge in the city, but we can send you onward better equipped.’

‘Thank you, captain. We have urgent need to be at the Eye, but we cannot afford for those who escaped to relay news of this, to anyone. We have been spreading a very specific story. It would come undone if word got out of what transpired here.’

‘I see.’

‘So, rather than your material help, may we ask instead that you pursue the rest of the mercenaries? Silence them or detain them, however you deem fit, until all this has passed. We need to go on alone. Can we have your trust in this?’

Kasil nodded and drew out his moonglint blade. ‘You may. What will you do with him?’ The captain’s eyes fell to the captured man. Hooded, he seemed to alert enough to be listening.

‘We have need of him. We’ll leave him for your men to find upon your return.’ Then Darius lowered his voice. ‘Worry not, captain. I have no intent to take another life here.’

Kasil remounted his horse. ‘Go on ahead, but do not take the open road. There are friendly peoples in the mountain passes who will make your journey easier. Starlight guide you.’

With one authoritative gesture, the captain rounded up his force and made off south, in pursuit. Soon, there was quiet around the now-extinguished and deserted campsite, save for the soft struggling of the man tied down on the ground. Masìlminur trotted in, gentle as he could, and found his master. The Amarant embraced the horse’s head. ‘You did well, boy.’ Valinos looked on, reminiscing on the bond he and Gidius the eagle had shared. He wondered if something would come of it, or if had been a single, fortunate instance.

Darius wiped sweat and blood from his brow and collected himself before he approached the prisoner. He lit a torch. Valinos followed, a few steps behind. The man struggled to sit up but managed, expectant.

Darius flung the hood off the man’s head. His features winced from wounds and the sudden brightness in his face.

‘You know why I keep you alive,’ Darius said. ‘You have one use now.’

The man chuckled, coughing from some injury or other. ‘You’re worse than the stories, Darius. But you should hear what they say about you.’

‘I know what they say. They don’t know the half of it. But right now, I’m interested in what you will say, my friend. Consider your words.’

‘But Raia knew, didn’t she?’ the man said, winking. ‘She knew you best.’ Valinos looked at the Amarant, and though he gave no discernible reaction at first, Darius gripped the man forcefully, pressing on the prisoner’s shoulder. The man suppressed a squeal.

‘You’re not saying what I need you to say, friend,’ said Darius.

The captured man threw a look towards Valinos and smirked. ‘Do we have to do this in front of the kid? You’re cruel.’

‘If you know the stories, you’d be aware I have no qualms taking on my own kinsmen. Speak.’

The man sighed. ‘Alright. Free my arm.’

‘Why?’

‘Because what I have to show you is more interesting than what I can say.’

Darius held on to the man, unmoving.

‘No, truly,’ the prisoner pleaded. ‘You’ll need this. You’re going to ahead to that Eye place. I’ll show you how to stay hidden once you’re nearby. Where do you think we came from?’

Darius considered for a moment. ‘Stand back, Valinos,’ he said. Then he bent down and released the strip holding the man’s left hand. The other was still tied to his feet.

The captured man stretched life into his fingers and then flattened the dirt with his palm, indicating that was going to etch something, a map perhaps. It took a moment too long for his intent to become clear.

‘The Iron King of Kerena brooks no rivals and bears no failure,’ he said. ‘Hail Cerus.’ At that, his hand found an object from within his coat. A blade flashed. He brought the thin metal to his own throat, and with a jerk, drove it through.

Valinos recoiled. Darius jumped to hold the man’s arm back, but it was too late. The man sputtered and kicked, then went still.

‘Damn! What do we do now?’ Valinos asked.

The Amarant stood up, eyes down at the dead man. ‘We go on as planned. We’ll aim for the mountainfolk the captain mentioned.’

Valinos looked around, taking in the chaos of the campsite. Strewn bodies and detritus told of the night’s insanity. ‘Perhaps we’ve drawn too much attention to ourselves?’ he quipped.

‘We’ll be more careful from here on out. We’ll take the unseen paths.’

‘And what do we do about him?’

‘I hope the captain understands.’

Before they left, Darius covered the prisoner in some discarded rags. He affixed a note to the corpse, written in blood since no utensils were readily available. Macabre, but it had to do in such circumstances.

‘I’m not wearing that hood again,’ Valinos said.

‘I don’t think you’ll need to.’

On they went, ever upward as the bones of the Undorn range defined the landscape more and more and their slopes steepened. It was slow going among the rocky outcrops and crags. In places, spells of snow fell and the wind carried icy flakes, obscuring the paths and making some utterly untraversable. Valinos walked at the rear, hands in makeshift manacles to appear bonded to any prying eyes. Darius trudged ahead, seemingly suited for the colder weather.

The fourth night was cold and difficult. Provisions mostly spent, they huddled in a cavern. The wind howled, threatening to extinguish their paltry flame and expel them into darkness. And all throughout, haunting Valinos’ waking thoughts and slumbering dreams, were the dying man’s final moments; the self-sure eyes, the gurgling throat which sounded like raspy laughter.

The fifth day came white and clear, but just as cold. They emerged out of the cavern to find their road blanketed in snow. Darius spied a gushing spring among the ice-encrusted rocks, and refilled their waterskins before letting Masìlminur have his fill also. In the night, Valinos had not been able to tell the altitude they had reached, but now under an empty sky he could see how the land had risen around them. Landmarks they had passed were flecks below, the rivers mere lines drawn in unliving ink. Ahead, peak formations spread out as far as he could see, some clumped together like teeth, while others stood solitary and sheer.

The Amarant navigated over and through the ridges, keeping to as even a road as he could. He seemed to be searching for signs of habitation. Valinos took in the sights as he followed, glad in one sense for his trappings since he was sure his wandering eyes would lead him to a crumbling edge or unstable bluff otherwise. He had not been so high before, not on land at least. And while these heights did not compare with the freedom he had felt riding the eagle, there was comfort still in being closer to the sky like this. His thoughts went out to Asphales again, not simply in concern for where he might be, but also in peculiar gratitude to him for the experiences this journey had brought.

Valinos’ legs had numbed from the cold and stiffened from the effort of the hike by the time the trio reached their goal. It was as night spread over the hilltops like a velvet sheet that they had finally spotted something promising: torchlight up ahead. Fortuitously, the path now descended, making the trek over to the hamlet easier. Even better, Darius unfastened his bonds before entering the town’s premises. A good move, Valinos thought, for what hospitality would an admitted peddler of prisoners receive?

It was not long before their entrance was noticed. Darius slowed his pace and came out, holding on to Masìlminur’s reigns. His weapon was visibly sheathed.

The figures who approached were covered in fur. In the dim light, Valinos could have mistaken them for bears or other mountain creatures. But fortunately, their demeanour was kinder than that of beasts.

‘Hail,’ one of them called. ‘Who are you? Do you come peacefully?’ The man’s accent was not one Valinos had heard before.

‘Peacefully,’ Darius said. He let go of the horse’s reins and took a few steps forward, arms out to the side. ‘I am a warrior of Fara’ethar, accompanied by my apprentice and my steed. We’re sorry to intrude at this hour, but we have an urgent task and we are in need of shelter, provisions, anything you are able to spare in your kindness. But say the word and we will be on our way if we are not welcome.’

‘Fara’ethar, you say?’ the man said, drawing closer. ‘They’re good folk, usually. What is your name?’ He held an implement of sorts, using it to support himself in the snow as he walked.

‘Darius Inidirōn,’ the Amarant said. ‘And this is Valinos.’ Valinos bowed, unsure if that was proper around these parts.

‘I am Hek’aneth,’ the man said. ‘Chief of the Mu’adur mountainfolk. You are welcome here.’ He brought a fist up, touching the back of his hand to his forehead.

‘Thank you,’ Darius said.

‘You are known to us, Darius. Queer are the words that have reached our ears.’

Valinos felt his mind agitate. Had the kind greeting been in vain? The men murmured among themselves for a while, long enough to make him nervous of their intentions.

‘But,’ the chief picked up at last, after glancing at some of the others who had gathered, ‘we’ll be the judges of your character. We are no fools to blindly trust hearsay. They are mere ripples. We will discern the pebble dropped into the lake. This is a hardy truth: a man will make the measure of his worth clear soon enough.’

‘You speak kindly,’ Darius said.

‘Come on, now,’ said Hek’aneth. ‘Let us get you out of the cold.’ The chief whistled, sounding like a hawk in flight. Two other men approached and assisted them with their horse and luggage.

‘These are my sons, Loh’aneth and Rual’aneth.’ Valinos caught a glimpse of them as they came to take some supplies. They were young, but their features were not those of simple youth. Their faces and postures seemed weathered, tested. Their smiles came quick and their eyes were warm, but they had sharp noses and strong cheeks.

‘This way,’ one of them said.

The chief and his sons led them through thinning trees and into the village proper. As he walked, Valinos saw that Hek’aneth, too, had his sons’ powerful traits, albeit all the more distinctive on the ageing man. Long and braided white hair graced his head, and a nose sharp as a mountain-peak guided him. He wore a garment that look as old as the earth itself, adorned with natural memorabilia – leaves, stones, teeth.

‘What is this place?’ Valinos asked as he was taken around a snow-covered lodge. The building’s logs looked like entire trees had been gathered, shorn of branches and their trunks assembled into walls.

‘This village has no name, like this mountain,’ the chief said. He looked at Valinos through old, granite eyes. ‘Oh, men may bestow names to these peaks, but what do those short-lived titles mean to the undying stone? We have names, for we too will pass on. But for as long as there has been a mountain, our people have been here too, and our home will go on though the stone forget our faces.’

Valinos was not sure he understood, but he took the old man’s sincerity to heart. Right now, he was more eager to find a place to rest. Presently, Hek’aneth departed with Darius and took him to a different area of the village, presumably the equivalent of a stable. Valinos was left on the doorstep of the lodge-like building. ‘Go up,’ the chief had said, ‘and you will be shown to your bedding for the night. We will discuss payment on the morrow.’

A woman met him at the entry. ‘I am Ren’arath,’ she said, mimicking the chief’s earlier gesture. ‘Welcome.’ She, too, wore a draping fur coat.

‘Thank you,’ Valinos staid, stumbling in. Fatigue was settling in. The woman had said something more to him, but the words barely registered, and even the walk to his assigned room was a blur.

Away from the constant flow of air, the stench that followed him had become suddenly and unpleasantly clear. Grime, sweat, even blood—composite smells all competed for the attention of Valinos’ nose. With some difficulty, Valinos managed to find another attendant and be pointed to a place where he could bathe.

After nearly falling asleep from the serene heat of the bathwater, Valinos started to attention and finished up. All his thoughts were for a bed. He headed back to his room and shut the door.

All was quiet. Blissful. Black. There was no light in this room, but the darkness was inviting. There was a cosy musk about the chamber, like aged pine and wool. Valinos collapsed on his bedding and wrapped a linen blanket around himself, feeling like five days’ worth of exhaustion was already fleeing. His ribs and back thanked him.

A snowy wind had begun raging outside his warm cabin, and all other movement beyond his window ceased. Valinos fell into sleep to calmer thoughts; a mellow valley nestled between peaks, a peculiar interlude of peace between tides of war and storm.