James West - Shadow and Steel

Two guards came together on the wall walk arching over the open gate. When the pair glanced down, Adham spun Leitos in the other direction. Once they were well out of earshot, he said, “The time has come to search this city.”

“Are you sure that is a good idea?”

“Has Adu’lin denied us the chance?”

Leitos thought about it. “No, not exactly. But more than once I have gotten the impression that we ought to keep to the palace grounds … for our safety from the Yatoans. Besides, how would we get past the guards?”

“If these guards are any indication, the Yatoans are not the frightful warriors Adu’lin claims.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you feared an attack at any moment, would you spend so much time watching the palace grounds, or would you look to the streets beyond, in the direction that the enemy would come?”

Instead of answering, Leitos cast an eye over the grounds. Wherever a guard walked, he looked inward, not out. They did not behave like men in fear of anything. Truth told, they seemed bored to the point of collapse. Here and there, he actually saw a guard slouched against his grounded spear or halberd, apparently napping.

“And if we get past the guards,” Leitos said cautiously, not wanting to encourage his father into doing something rash, “what do you expect us to find?”

Adham peered under his brows, his eyes hard and gray as old ice. “Not us- you . I do not have your skills. If I leave, it will be behind my sword. So far, things have not yet gotten so bad as that. At least, I hope not.”

Leitos did not like where this was going, but at the same time, the idea of sneaking through the city, hunting for answers to unknown questions, filled him with a sense of purpose he had not known he missed. “I’ll do it. But again, what am I searching for?”

Adham sighed. “That, my boy, I do not know. Something, anything, that tells us who these Fauthians really are.”

“You mean, other than who they say they are?”

“Exactly. Adu’lin is hiding something, and I want to know what. We need something to give to Ba’Sel and Ulmek … something that will pull their heads out of that disgusting fruit wine long enough to see reason.”

And if I find nothing? Leitos resisted speaking that question aloud. A part of him truly did not want to find anything against the Fauthians. It would be a pleasant change if a stranger did not prove to be an enemy in league with the Faceless One.

“Here,” Adham said gruffly, pressing a sheathed dagger into his son’s hand. It was a Kelren blade, but a weapon just the same.

“Why do you still have-” Leitos began, but Adham cut him off.

“We Izutarians learned, long before the Faceless One rose to power, that giving over your sword to a ruler hastens a man’s journey to the grave.”

Leitos tucked it into his belt. “But now you are unarmed.”

“Never, my son.” Adham drew back the edge of his robe to show the hilt of another Kelren blade. With a last word of caution, Adham stalked away.

Getting free of the palace grounds proved as easy as Adham had suggested, a simple matter of waiting for the footfalls of a guard to fade in the distance, and then slipping through the open gate and making for the nearest crop of shadows.

Leitos followed empty streets and alleys, always sure to keep buildings between himself and the palace wall, until he was far enough away that there was little chance anyone would see him. Not that he feared that overmuch. As Adham had said, the Fauthian guards only seemed interested in the palace grounds, not the city. Still, he kept a wary eye for any Fauthian patrols. He was not sure if there were any, but something in the back of his mind suggested that having them catch him beyond the palace walls would prove troublesome.

Leitos crept along, poking his head into a building here or there, or fully investigating those that seemed the most interesting. After several hours of discovering only dust, cobwebs, and rotted furnishings, he began to doubt he would locate any of the damning evidence his father wanted. He had found more things of curiosity in the bone-towns of Geldain.

Gradually moving toward Armala’s southern wall, he kept on until dusk, when he came to a tall, needlelike watchtower ringed about its crown with arched openings. An iron-banded door set in its base was the only way inside.

He gazed at those openings, so far above. If there was anything incriminating to see, it might stand out from on high. And, if nothing else, the view might give him a better idea about Armala and its defenses.

He tried the door’s latch. Like nearly every other door he had tested, this one was unlocked. Inside showed more untouched dust and spiders’ leavings, all lit by golden bars of sunlight slanting through the windows. The tower’s center was hollow, with a wooden stairway turning its way up to the top.

After testing the first few wooden treads and finding them sound, he began to climb. It was slow going, for the higher he went, the more cautious he became about the ancient steps. They creaked and groaned, but otherwise seemed solid.

The stairway ended at trapdoor set in the tower’s only floor. Hand on the iron handle, he hesitated. If there were guards standing watch on the other side, there would be no way to get away. Save for those he left behind him, there had been no tracks in the dust. Unless Fauthians could fly, he reasoned, no one had been in this tower for a very long time.

He eased the door up a crack, searched the gap for any traps or dangers, then pushed it all the way open. In one corner he found a large bird’s nest, but nothing else. Staying in a crouch, he moved to the nearest window and looked out.

From so high, Armala seemed small, barely deserving to be called a city. He spied the palace straight away, even saw guards striding the wall walks. Due east rose a twin to his tower. To the north, near the gate they had used to first enter the city, two more towers overlooked the city. Between those four landmarks, lay Armala. Much as the bone-towns he had passed through, Armala seemed bereft of life and all hope. Of anything his father sought, he saw nothing that he had not seen during their march to the palace.

He moved to the opposite opening. The city wall, secured by a handful of guards, followed the curves of the land. From a closed gate, braced by two squat gatehouses, a narrow road ran a short stretch-no more than a hundred paces-through a field of tall grass, before vanishing into the forest. By its direction, it followed the ridgeline that began its ascent soon after the field ended and the forest began.

He was wondering if that road led to the top of the mountains, or maybe over them, when he heard a faint scream. Another followed, louder and longer, and filled with agony.

Silence fell with disturbing abruptness. Not one of the guards below him so much as twitched. They have heard those cries before … and often.

Leitos did not move for a long time. The sun settled its girth behind the cloud-draped horizon, and a deeper red covered the land. Soon after, darkness thickened, welling up out of the forest’s ravines and hollows, and spilling out over everything.

Had he left the tower and fled back to the palace, he never would have seen the faint blue glow, high upon the slope beyond the city. That was where screams had come from, he had no doubt. And it was the place to which he could not keep himself from going.

Even stopping often to listen for patrolling guards, Leitos quickly reached the southern curve of the city wall. Fast as the trip was, it still felt too long. He was sure that someone out in the forest, caught within that strange blue light, needed help. And as far as he could tell, he was the only one willing to offer it. It crossed his mind that the Yatoans were trying to lure the Fauthians into a trap, but the utter lack of concern he had seen from the guards made him doubt that.