Five Kingdoms Page 7
“I have no regrets over my duty to my lord and our empress,” Guang Ci answered respectably, and as would normally have been expected.
Xu Liang looked at the youth over his shoulder, studying the severity of his expression on features that were both bold and handsome. He maintained the trim facial hair of many men in his station. His shoulder-length hair was held up, so that it may be worn beneath a helmet with ease. His helmet had been one of the important items lost during the travel behind them. Xu Liang had not noticed when. Perhaps it had occurred when Guang Ci accompanied Tristus and Shirisae on their search for Alere. That act, by his station in Sheng Fan and beneath Xu Liang, whose safety and interests he was responsible for, was wrong. By all accounts outside of the protocol of a Fanese guard, it was right. Guang Ci had acted on Xu Liang’s behalf for the purpose of bringing the Swords together. He had done so while Xu Liang himself verged on letting them go.
“You are a man of tremendous spirit, Guang Ci,” Xu Liang told him.
Guang Ci accepted the compliment humbly, albeit somewhat confusedly.
Xu Liang did not explain the comment to his young guard. He suspected that Guang Ci understood in his heart.
From one of the highest points in Aer outside of the mountains, Fu Ran envisioned the route they would take toward Sheng Fan. There would be an abundance of craggy grasslands, which was also a breeding ground for some of the boldest bandits known to Dryth. They gathered in number and terrorized the valleys. It was said that some of the largest groups hid in dens built into the rocks and ruins of the lands of the Old Aeran Kings. For some, the size of Xu Liang’s company alone might dissuade them, especially with the viewable evidence of warriors present in the bodyguards. If a band was large enough or aggressive enough, however, that would only bring more challenge to the table. The Valley Lords, as they called themselves, were drawn to higher stakes, believing that it meant higher plunder. A Fanese nobleman with an entourage of guards and in the company of what they might take for elven emissaries would be quite attractive. For that reason alone, Fu Ran would have insisted on accompanying Xu Liang.
His former master had followed the Tunghui out of Sheng Fan the first time. With the increase in activity in the valleys in recent years, that had been a sound choice. It would have saved time as well. Circumstances were different coming in from the north. Xu Liang would want to take a southeastern route in the interest of time. That would take him directly through the Valley of Kings. The mountains would be a safe haven, but they would have to get to them first. At the moment, distance and clouds hid even the silhouette of them from view.
Once at the threshold of the mountains, Xu Liang would be clear to begin his passage into Ying, brushing narrowly along the border of Arjhen, the land of savages, even to the Aeran people. Fu Ran knew little about the region personally since Pride’s business stopped well before their coasts. Yvain was already off her preferred schedule, in part because of Fu Ran and her decision to wait for him in Willenthurn, but also in part to some convincing on Bastien’s part to head west along the trade routes earlier than she’d planned. Their captain had put aside personal aspirations, though Fu Ran had not been surprised by her decision at the time. By her own admission, she’d been putting off her journey to the country of her ancestors since she was a girl. Fu Ran didn’t know precisely why, but he wasn’t going to argue being at sea over either sitting idle in Aer or wandering the jungles of Neidra, which would undoubtedly bring him closer to the kingdom of Du and the home of his own ancestors than he wanted to be.
He thought that often, though he knew that being in the presence of Xu Liang again had challenged his conviction where Sheng Fan was concerned. Yvain’s concerns were not unwarranted; it was entirely possible that he would return to his homeland one day in order to be reunited with the man he would forever regard as his brother. That said, there was not a woman in Sheng Fan as important to him as Yvain. He had served both of the people he cared about most in Dryth, in one way or another. So, he supposed that it was true that all sons of Sheng Fan had a single role that they were born into, and that they were bound by destiny to fulfill.
A son of Sheng Fan fulfilled his destiny with a devoted heart, it was said. It was also said that a son of Sheng Fan would live for a specified time, and no longer. Fu Ran could only wonder whether or not that was true for Xu Liang now.
“This land reminds me of Andaria in some ways,” came the voice of Tristus.
Fu Ran looked down at the man. He was young yet, but would not have been considered short if not for the fact that Fu Ran was so much taller than most men. Fu Yan had once told his only son that his great size was a blessing from the Heavens, and that even a blessing could be a challenge. It had crept upon Fu Ran’s lips to tell Tristus that in regards to the other side of his nature, but he had stopped himself saying it. Tristus was convinced it was a curse, and thinking about it now, it may well have been. Considering how the berserker had come out of the knight when faced with the rogues from Sheng Fan, Fu Ran supposed they would see it again if the Valley Lords came upon them. The Aeran bandits would strike to kill, and to rob the corpses of their victims.
“It’s nothing at all like Andaria,” Fu Ran decided to say—though he didn’t honestly know—and walked away. Suddenly, he had more to consider than how to best avoid the Valley Lords. Now he had to consider how to avoid them at all costs.
All purchases had been made and equipment accounted for and arranged by midafternoon. A light fog had accumulated in the air, which appeared to make Fu Ran less comfortable with travel, but as fog was prevalent throughout most of Aer, he conceded that it would be impractical to wait for it to disperse. It was on the road through and ultimately out of Skrimm’s Harbor that Fu Ran divulged his true concern.
Xu Liang listened closely, noticing that Alere had been riding nearby and had done so as well. The elf slipped away shortly after Fu Ran’s initial explanation of his concerns to take up his role as scout. It was a role that Xu Liang intended to advise against Alere maintaining once in Sheng Fan. Xu Liang would know the way, and it would be upon his guards to advance their safety, something that would not alarm anyone as the sight of a Verressi elf certainly would.
As to Fu Ran’s concerns… “Have you encountered these bandits of the valleys before?” Xu Liang asked.
Fu Ran held onto a frown stubbornly, but ultimately shook his head. “I have not.”
“Then it is possible that we don’t know how much of them is truth and how much of them is rumor,” Xu Liang deduced.
“Possible,” Fu Ran admitted. “But the rumors are consistent.”
“And I will assume there is some truth to them,” Xu Liang assured his former guard. “We’ve faced enough mishap that I would be remiss in ignoring your warning. Trust that I am not, Fu Ran.”
Fu Ran drew in a breath, nodding when he let it out. Clearly, he was greatly concerned by the prospect of an altercation with these thieves of Aer.
“Is there something else that concerns you, Fu Ran?”
The giant held his silence for a moment, then looked over his shoulder. When his gaze found a target and lingered briefly, Xu Liang looked over his shoulder as well. It was Tristus who arrived in his line of sight. His conversation with Shirisae prevented him noticing that either Fu Ran or Xu Liang had looked at him directly.
“I see,” Xu Liang said while looking ahead again. “Your concern is not misplaced. It is my hope that we may pass through the valley region unnoticed.”
Fu Ran gave a nod. “It could be worse. We could be hunted by those shadow demons as well.”
“You say that as if there are none in this region,” Xu Liang replied. He looked up at Fu Ran and said, “I believe that there are, and that they may have been scarcely known of before now.”
Fu Ran sighed, shrugging resignedly. “So, it’s worse. I’ll go make sure the snow sprite doesn’t get too far ahead of us.”
/> Xu Liang watched the former guard maneuver his mount out of their informal line and ride toward the oncoming edge of the coastal town. The houses were spaced further apart and the walls dissipated to crumbled verges trimmed with snow.
Beside Xu Liang, Gai Ping said, “If only the flying beasts of the elves had been able to carry us home.”
Though it had been told to him that he had been borne on the backs of one of those beasts—griffins, they had been called—Xu Liang’s waking experience with them had been very little. He had no memory of having been flown from one precipice to another, and he had no desire to make a memory of such a feat. “I think that I shall leave the skies to the gods and those they have blessed with wings, Gai Ping.”
The elder smiled. “Spoken with the reverence of a true mystic of the winds, my lord.”
Xu Liang did not reply. He settled his gaze on the gray horizon, the curtain before yet another wilderness. The world was indeed vast, and it was within the smallest moments that one’s perception of it could be forever altered.
Valley of Kings
Traveling through Aer was as descending the broadest mountain in all the world. Its apex lay in a semi-permanent blanket of snow alongside the icy waters of the Aeran coast behind them. A slope of white flowed through patches of conifer forest, the limbs of every tree seemingly molded of the snow itself. And then the land became simply gray; a vast, uneven expanse of rocky terrain with sparse patches of grass and lonely stands of bent, but hearty trees. Woolly goats lingered along the treacherous path, while small walled towns cropped up as if out of nowhere, as if from the rock itself. At times, fields of flowers or simply of grass spilled over the hillside leading to such towns. Elk strayed out of the deeper woods further inland and stood motionless in the morning mist, eyeing the passing travelers with wise dark eyes.
Of all of their animals, it was the sure-footed Breigh and the yak her owner had secured that fared the best. The caravan as a whole was slowed on several occasions by showing caution to their horses. Sylvashen was the youngest and least tamed, and required the most coaxing over the most treacherous areas. Tristus resigned himself to walking the young steed for several hours at a time, which also assisted in delaying them. The route through the heart of Aer rivaled the dangers of the deep gorges of the Alabaster Range with its jagged landscape and incessant fog.
“This,” Tarfan was in the process of announcing while they navigated a particularly sharp area of rock, “is not so bad. Reminds me a little of the land surrounding the Stormbright Caverns.”
“This is worse,” Taya put in flatly, straining to assist Tristus in getting the obstinate Sylvashen to traverse the erratic terrain.
Tarfan shrugged, hopping down from one rock to another on legs that were perhaps made for such ventures. “I said a little, lass.”
“Come on, Sylvashen,” Tristus encouraged. “It won’t go on forever. I promise you.”
Tarfan eyed the knight over his shoulder and seemed to contemplate bringing up a familiar and tired subject regarding Tristus and horses. When the dwarf noticed Xu Liang observing him with censure, he blew out a small puff of air and looked ahead. “As I was saying…it isn’t all that bad. Could be much worse.”
“How much worse?” Fu Ran challenged, though he seemed more interested in watching the horizon through the mist.
Tarfan began to grumble a reply, but changed his mind upon noticing what was not only Fu Ran’s interest, but Xu Liang’s as well. “So much fog,” the old dwarf commented, peering ahead.
Yes, there was, Xu Liang thought. And he disliked it. There were ruins ahead. The bent tower of a larger structure pierced the veil of mist, looming over the tops of a stand of narrow, barren trees. A light layer of snow traced the edges of the inanimate figures. The stillness of the area was perhaps more unsettling than the reputation Fu Ran had spoken of. Before long, it began to rest very heavily along Xu Liang’s shoulders, stirring tense aches.
“I’m worried about Alere,” he finally said to Fu Ran.
The larger man was already nodding. “So am I.”
Tarfan looked between them. “The elf’s only been ahead of us an hour or so since the last time he checked back.”
“Fu Ran,” Xu Liang prompted, his tone erring on command as his level of fear for their ally increased.
“I’m going,” Fu Ran announced. In Fanese, he instructed Shi Dian and Cai Zheng Rui to go with him.
Xu Liang nodded, temporarily releasing them into Fu Ran’s command.
Tarfan started forward, one arm in the air. “Wait for me, lads! I’ll give you some assistance with our wandering elf pup!”
Fu Ran hefted the dwarf onto his own mount and the four of them went, riding as swiftly as they were able into the mist and toward the trees.
The mists of Aer were as being taken into the arms of Ceren. The goddess tempted mortals to the edges of sanity. It was her way of testing the resolve of the world’s inhabitants, of separating those of strong mind from those who were weaker or easily confused. According to the elves of Shillan, she was the patron of scholars and the enemy of idleness. But she was also unfair, and would put forward greater challenges to those who passed her tests. She would lead all to the Void in time, for as much as she encouraged curiosity and intellect, she seemed to resent the mortal peoples of the world. That was Alere’s belief, and so he took careful steps over rocks that were at times as daggers laid on edge in the cold earth, through fog that moved as if it were the breath of some greater being.
Fu Ran’s fears were of men, Alere believed, based upon his talk. If there were men hiding amid the rocks and the ruins, then Alere would find where they were hiding. Thus far he had managed to scout out a secure, albeit arduous path. Their goal was to come to the base of the mountains, the opposite side of the bowl that Aer formed; high elevations to either side with a low center. The valleys—by Fu Ran’s description—were as grooves cut into the base of the bowl, long rifts of uneven terrain that offered three important dangers; terrain that was sharp and steep, sudden drop-offs into underground caves, and the tyrannical raiders who inhabited the otherwise forsaken heart of Aer. Time allowing, they would have been wiser to avoid the wilds and traverse the outer rims where the majority of the population existed in reasonable peace. But time did not allow them that. Xu Liang feared for the safety of his liege and of his people. If Alere had been in a similar position regarding his own people and his parents, he too would have made haste over even the most brutal landscapes, and dared any challenge from their inhabitants.
At the tree line, the number of rocks became fewer and the haze thicker. With easy balance, Alere stepped down onto more even footing, then gently guided Breigh after him. The mare came with no trouble and Alere stroked her muzzle while he paused to absorb the view in front of him. The trees here were narrow and sharp, similar to some of the woods that had surrounded Vorhaven’s bog. There was none of the rank of such poisoned land in the air, however, so Alere did not worry that the crumbling tower he had seen above the trees was some extension of the madman’s estate. He supposed it still could have been the house of some equally driven lord, trapped by his hostile environment, growing sick within his isolation. The Night Blade was also no longer at large, though. It seemed unlikely that anything quite as volatile as Malek Vorhaven could have existed here.
Still, Alere felt as if there were eyes in the fog. It might have been a better option to avoid these woods altogether, but he had not seen a way around them. They appeared to occupy miles in either direction.
“Come, Breigh,” he said over his shoulder, venturing through the trees.
The ground underfoot remained firm, though it was softened by a layer of dirt and pine needles. Beneath the litter, the terrain appeared to be a variation of slabs of stone and pockets of dirt which enabled the trees to take root many years ago. Within a short span, a bridge of stone appeared. It was not large and its
railing was largely broken, though not as broken as the earth it was connecting. Alere stopped near the edge, looking into a chasm of indeterminable depth. Though the sides were not terribly far from one another, the ground opposite was raised high enough that a leap could very easily become perilous.
There was no telling how long the rift ran, save to follow it, which could take far too long.
Alere stepped to the bridge, which had three tall blocks serving as stairs up to the platform that would lead one across. It would be difficult, though not impossible, to get the horses across. For now, he left Breigh at the foot of the bridge and climbed onto it alone. The walls were in poor condition, but the floor felt stable yet. They would have to take the utmost care, but it would still be a less time consuming method than attempting to find either the end of the gap, or of the forest.
The bridge was not long and carried directly to the level of the ground on the opposite end. A slope of trees rose to Alere’s left while the ground stretched unevenly downward to his right. Directly ahead of him lay the tower. Its upper reaches were obscured by the mist. The base of it stood visible not far from the bridge with an open doorway that led into a shadowed space textured with shafts of gray light. It appeared to leak through holes that time or attack had made on the walls.
Alere moved forward to further scan the area. The tower was connected to a shorter building that was equally dilapidated. Not far from the ruins the earth gaped again, but in the form of a cave rather than a crack. It was the cave that interested Alere more, particularly as Aerkiren began to give off its twilight glow. The purple light seeped out from beneath the sheath, wrapping toward Alere’s arm. Looking into the blackness of the cave’s mouth, feeling the eyes of a presence on him, he withdrew.
It was in the moment the decision to leave had been made that he heard allies calling to him. He did not answer. Moving swiftly, he returned to the bridge. He was being followed, though not chased. In his experience, that meant a bow.