Terry Simpson - Etchings of Power

“My clansmen tried to hack their way through. But our weapons had little effect unless they took a head or a leg.”

Ryne’s body stiffened. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I would never forget such. No one who took part in the War of the Remnants could.”

Ryne agreed with an absentminded nod. Could this be the reason for Halvor’s warning? One slipping by he could understand, but how could an entire army bypass his wards. How did they survive where I almost died?

“If it had been men alone,” Jaecar continued, voice steeped in melancholy, “most of our people would have fled and used their skills to hide. Indeed some tried. Those were among the first caught. I watched from among the tree branches as clansmen used the Forms to hide themselves. Horns sounded and wraithwolves appeared by the hundreds. The shadelings tracked each and every use of Mater and revealed those who hid. Against such a force, not even the Eztezian warriors of legend could have held.” Jaecar’s lips trembled.

Ryne almost asked if the assassin could be mistaken, but he knew better. The look on Jaecar’s face spoke for itself. Even if he hadn't seen the beasts when he found the missing villagers, he would've believed the man. He exhaled deeply, his hand folding into a fist.

Jaecar sighed and hunched into himself. “At that point I fled among the trees making sure not to use the Forms. It’s why when you chased I didn’t use them to hide. I dreaded drawing the creatures here.”

“Why didn’t you go warn the other clanholds?” Ryne asked.

“I thought about it, but first I used the lantums to scale a great tree.” Jaecar gestured to the large vines entwined around the trunks and branches. “There was smoke coming from the other holds within the Scattered Hills. Farther south, I saw more smoke, toward the Fretian Woods. I decided the safest way was here. So, I took my family and ran and have been doing so ever since. I’m going to the Vallum of Light and beyond if I have to.”

Ryne’s thoughts whirled. Jaecar’s revelation explained the smoke he saw from Nevermore. Still, for all six clanholds to be defeated, the numbers required to accomplish such a feat would have to be staggering. “Do you think some among your people knew they were coming?”

Golden eyes becoming glittering beads, Jaecar took a step back. “You’re suggesting we were betrayed by our own. No, I refuse to believe it. Why would you ask such a thing?”

“There were two Alzari deep within the Fretian. They bore the mark of Amuni’s Children. They were also accompanied by an infected lapra.”

“I know nothing of this. The taming of infected lapra is an old thing. Some say they were once used to fight the shade.”

Ryne allowed himself to ponder what the man said, staring off into the forest. Something about his words nagged at Ryne like a gnat. The flash thunderstorm finished spitting its torrent, and water runoff played a distant staccato as it pattered to the ground from leaves.

Then it clicked. “You said you saw more smoke, south, near the Fretian? How long ago?” Ryne asked.

“A week gone now. It’s why I didn’t try to reach the other towns and cities in that direction. The shade’s armies are headed that way.”

Ryne’s hands made an involuntary clench as a chill crept through him. “Are you sure?”

“Beyond a doubt.”

Ryne pictured the terrain. Carnas’ position on the Orchid Plains, a few miles southwest of the Fretian Woods, was not in the direct path of the advancing army but still close. If the invaders stayed on the path Jaecar mentioned, they could well reach Ryne’s home in another day.

“Sakari, come. We have to go. I’m sorry to leave you like this, Jaecar. May Ilumni guide you and keep you and yours safe.”

“Is all well?” Jaecar asked.

Closing his eyes, Ryne inhaled deeply. “No. My home in Carnas…” He couldn’t finish the statement.

The corners of Jaecar’s mouth turned down. “May Humelen lend you the strength of the Forms.”

As Jaecar turned away and entered the shadowy interior of the small hollow with his wife, his aura wavered once more. Ryne studied the man’s back for a moment, frowning at the strange occurrence.

Sakari shook him. “Come. We must go now.”

Without further thought, Ryne followed his shorter companion’s lead through the trees. From time to time, Ryne surged ahead, fighting a constant battle not to let his fears get the better of him. The earlier rain had not caused many floods so they made good time, skirting the muddiest sections as best they could. A few hours of hard running later, the forest thinned, and they arrived at a small, grassy plain with stunted trees. Sakari scouted ahead while Ryne remained in the woods.

All’s well within Carnas. It must be. Ryne pictured successful hunts and afternoon meals. Children played, their laughter tinkling through the village. Babies suckled at their mothers’ teats, and the able-bodied women would now be finishing up dinner preparations. Hagan would be bustling about the inn, preparing for another night of drink. Maybe he’d finally secured a singer or dancer as he often promised. Mayor Bertram would have everyone ready to leave at a moment’s notice should something be amiss with Hagan hovering over him offering his input, never cowed by Bertram’s brash exterior.

Images of Vana and Vera before he left swirled fresh in his mind. Their laughter and teasing when his face heated from the Temtesa’s swaying gyrations made him smile. Since meeting them, he’d given up his penchant for visiting the brothels in Astocan towns. For years, he fought the need within his loins whenever the twins were around. With his many enemies, avoiding any attachment had become a necessity. Of late, he felt his resolve wane, and he often looked forward to the sisters’ company at his home. When he returned to Carnas he would choose one of the sisters, maybe both. They would be pleased.

“We can cross now.” Sakari’s words snapped him from his reverie.

With Sakari in the lead once more, they sprinted across the plain and entered the Fretian Woods. They kept close to the forest’s edge so they could see any threat that may come their way. The closer they came to Carnas, the more tension built within Ryne until his shoulders ached. Eventually, he pushed hard for home, often outpacing Sakari. Twilight’s ethereal fingers pricked the clouds on the horizon in bruised purple hues as they reached the Orchid Plains.

A mile out from Carnas they found the first body. It was Hagan. Something had torn his body in half.

Ryne snarled at the sight of Hagan’s body.

Around the corpse, dried blood, the color of rust covered the earth and crushed grass in a congealed mass of entrails. Yellow and brown stained the crotch of Hagan’s pants. Urine and the choking stench from offal drowned out the scent from the man’s spilled fluids; the reek increased by the day’s lingering heat.

From the evidence in the area, Hagan had died without a fight. Jagged wounds along his torso looked as if giant claws had shorn through his body, similar in many ways to those found on the bodies discovered the last few weeks, but the damage was too great to be sure. A lump formed in Ryne’s throat. Oh, Ilumni…Carnas.

Dying sunlight glinted from the village’s thatch and wood roofs poking out just above a dip in the plains. Fingers clenched around his sword, heat swelling within him, Ryne took a step toward Carnas. Sakari’s iron grip on his arm stopped him.

“This is not like you, acting with your emotions rather than your head,” Sakari said with more than a hint of nonchalance.

Snatching his arm away, Ryne pointed at Hagan. When he found his voice, it came out as a strained hiss. “That’s someone we knew. A man I considered a friend. In that village are the only people I held dear since the day I woke. We’ve known them for years, and you act as if all is well. Do you feel nothing?”