Chapter 15
The rain was incessant. Arios starred out his window into the courtyard watching it melt before his eyes. Half of it was already submerged in wide pools the rest a sodden mass of sliding earth and detritus. All of it save for the Altar of Kallidrios. It was raised above the mire, set on a walkway of polished stone. Beneath its marble roof the flickering flame of its lamp struggled against the raging storm. The faint, resinous sweetness of burning incense rode the wind and through his window. Father had left early this morning but as always, he had first tended to the shrine.
They had spoken no more of the events of last evening. Ilaria had gripped him tight calling his name over and over when they returned home. And Father had let go of his anger, so overjoyed was he to have his family whole again. He had too drunk quickly and too well and soon had been in need of his bed. Arios had been grateful for this, he too needed rest.
“Arios!” A voice shouted from outside the home. “Arios are you here?”
The great doors to the courtyard groaned as they swung open. A tall man, hood pulled over his face rushed in and under the peristyle to escape the rain.
Arios left his room, joining the man on the peristyle. As he approached the man threw back his hood revealing the crooked nose and weathered face of Captain Darios. The usual twinkle in his eyes had gone, replaced by thin red veins and dark shadows.
“Arios are you well? I wished to call upon you yestereve but duty commanded me elsewhere.”
“I am quite well Darios, thank you.” He could see the relief on the tired man’s face. “I think we would be more comfortable in the dining hall.” He gestured to a nearby doorway.
“Lead the way.”
They entered the room and sat at the low table. Arios poured two glasses of wine handing the first to Darios. They rose them silently and drank.
“How fares Lord Pyragos? Is he…?” Arios could not bear to finish.
“They say the worst is past him.”
A deep exhale, “That is most welcome news!”
“But still, he does not wake. The healers say it may be some time before he does.” Darios starred deep into his cup.
“It was my fault. I got myself captured and Pyragos was wounded in my rescue. He saved my life,” he finished weakly.
Darios shook his head sadly, “No Arios, the fault is mine. I am sworn to defend Lord Pyragos and I swore to your father I would do the same for you.” He took a large swig of wine fighting back tears. “I should have been there; you are just boys…”
“Why were you not there? Pyragos brought other men to the brothel?”
For a moment Darios seemed bewildered. His cup shook in his hand, then he whispered, “I do not know…”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
He had hurt Darios overstepping as he always did. Always pressing, always questioning. Why could he not keep his mouth shut. In desperation, and to change the topic he asked the first question that came to his mind, “Darios, it has been some time, will you train with me this morning?”
Darios looked up from his cup, “In this weather?”
“Peril will not wait for the clouds to part. I must be ready for next time.”
Darios pondered this for moment. The bluntness had lifted him from darker thoughts. “I am to return to my duties at noon. We still seek the hollow-eyed corpse of that peasant, Marcen. What the Kyrithon want with his body is beyond me. They already have the only part they seem to care for.” He stroked his chin, “Very well, call your sister. We can train in the courtyard. But not for long.”
Arios crossed to Ilaria’s room. He knocked on the door and called out to her. There was no response. He opened the door to see her sat at a table writing furiously. “Ilaria?” She turned to face him. “Darios has called upon us. We are to train with him in the courtyard. Are you well enough?”
She nodded, standing to her feet. She did not speak but her eyes were full of light, burning with determination. She brushed past him into the hall.
Darios had them train in the mud. Spear and shield. Crossing and weaving. The morass dragged them down seeping into their boots and drenching their tunics. The ground was uneven, treacherous. One wrong step could send you flying or worse sinking.
“Very good, both you!” Called Darios through the pounding rain. “Come here a moment!”
They approached him, breathlessly.
“Arios, I want you to focus on shielding, this will allow Ilaria more opportunities to attack”
“Darios I…” Should he not be the aggressor?
“Ilaria does not possess the strength to protect you both but her strikes are fierce and quick. You must learn to complement each other’s skill. In battle, how well you do so will determine your chances at victory.”
This wounded his pride but Arios held his tongue. Darios was a seasoned veteran. He would know what was best for them.
Over the next hour Arios found the captain’s words to be true. Ilaria was light and agile, she could duck under and around shield placement allowing her to strike from any angle. Darios brought out a smaller shield for Ilaria and they worked on formations that placed them both behind his shield. It was humbling to see his little sister excel in the ways Arios most desired and he felt hot with envy. But then remembered how she had been just yesterday. So, changed. The sharp-tongued, quick-witted girl he knew had looked so small. Shrunken and vulnerable, broken. To see her now was a revelation. She could have been dancing, the elegance of each movement, the precision of each strike. He confidence seemed to rise by the second. He would be her shield if it meant she would never lose herself again.
Finally, Darios had had enough. They sat on the floor of the peristyle too dirtied to enter the dining hall. Darios pulled dates and fish from his pouch. They sat in silence eating, too tired to speak.
“Darios, thank you.” Ilaria broke the silence. It was the most she had said since they had discovered the eyeless corpse the day before. “I do not know why you have taken such an interest in us but I am grateful all the same.”
Darios looked at them or rather through them it seemed. “I told you I was from the city of Eironeia, did I not?”
They nodded.
“In my time there I worked as a guard in the house of a great lord. He had two children, Ilion and Nyria. Their mother had passed many years before and he had little time to raise them so it often fell to me to watch over the little ones.” He continued to stare past them, unable to meet their eyes. “I grew to love them greatly. When the city fell their father abandoned them to save himself and I” —he choked back a sob— “I could not save them.”
Ilaria took the captain’s hand in her own and looked up into his eyes, “It will not be like that here Darios, you have already saved us.”
This was too much for the poor man and turned away coughing and hacking to disguise his tears. Then he stood rather brusquely. “I must take me leave. My men will be needing me.” His voice was stiff and wooden. “You two keep up on your training. We will have another lesson as soon as I have the chance.” He turned and made his way towards the courtyard gate.
As he did, the gate opened and a plated soldier stepped through. It was one of Lord Theron’s men. “Captain Darios, we have been searching all over for you. We have located the missing corpse. It is hanging in the Market Hall.”