Terry Simpson - The Shadowbearer

The world slowed as the Alzari raised his hand.

The ground rumbled and shook. The earth heaved, causing his dartan to stumble to one side. A massive undulating lump roiled past Stefan. Yanking on his reins, he retreated.

The Alzari’s mouth fell open as the mound pushed up from the earth, forming a head bigger than the size of a wagon. The form continued to pour up from the ground, stone and dirt spilling away as neck, shoulders, then torso and arms grew. Intricate tattoos covered the Svenzar’s surface. They writhed around its body as if they wanted to tear from the creature’s skin.

Stefan recognized the Svenzar. It was Kalvor.

Light lanced out from the Alzari, striking Kalvor’s body, but not once did the Svenzar react.

“You helped save the Harnan,” Kalvor said. “For that, we are in your debt. We can help your people but you must make Nerian create an opening.”

“What are you-”

“Nerian is like a child, not knowing what he is doing, touching powers that lay dormant for years. One is holding him back. Your King must begin the process to unleash all he is. Only you and your weapon can provide what he needs.”

“How?”

“Use your sense when the time comes.”

Confused, Stefan opened his mouth to speak.

" GO! NOW!” Kalvor commanded, towering into the cavern, his back to Stefan. “You will understand when you meet him.”

A face grew on the Svenzar’s back.

Stefan gasped. It was as if he was looking into a mirror at his own reflection, but several times bigger.

“Remember to trust what you feel, not what you see,” the face said. “Begone.”

Without waiting for another invitation, Stefan pulled on the reins and dashed to the central lane. A quick look over his shoulder revealed several wraithwolves trying to leap across. The ground shook again, but this time, Sven rippled up from the earth to block the creatures.

Turning his focus ahead, Stefan sped away from the clamor of battle.

Hours later, Stefan arrived at the Travelshaft’s exit. Not much of what happened made sense. Why would the Svenzar defend him? Not only that, he could have sworn it seemed as if Kalvor expected him to be there. The same as the time when the Svenzar met him in Astoca. He frowned as he tried to understand what Kalvor meant by the sword providing Nerian with what he needed. One thing was certain. He was not giving the divya to the King.

His mind drifted to the shadelings, and he considered if Nerian sent them. But that didn’t make sense. Why not wait for him to come home? Unless Nerian assumed he was fleeing. He shook the thought off. Nerian knew he wouldn’t abandon his family.

Head spinning, Stefan continued to ponder his dilemma. What if someone else was acting on their own accord? Cerny maybe? If he made the wrong choice, not only his family’s lives, but those of the other men and women who now relied on him would be forfeit. With the thought, a hollow formed in his chest where the pendant of Thania rested. Whatever he decided, he had to proceed with the utmost care. One mistake and all would be lost.

A warning gong echoed. Ahead, the exit’s white glow came into view. Self-mastery , he reminded himself. He spurred his dartan toward the light.

When he exited, the air here deep in Seti was much cooler than he’d experienced at the Crescent Hills or even Karsten. The weather carried the chilly nip of autumn. Lit up by the orange glow of late evening sun, the peaks of the Cogal Drin Mountains loomed, soaring sentinels guarding the valley in which Benez nestled beyond the hill ahead. The clamor of an army on the march and clinking armor greeted him along with the trundle of wagons and shouted orders. Soldiers accompanied by Alzari massed on other roads leading to the shaft. The smell of man, metal, pack animals, and mounts rode heavy on the air. Several people pointed or stared at his dartan. The beast eyed them, mewling its displeasure.

On the main causeway where the road to the Travelshaft ended, ten mounted Dagodin in red and blue waited-the King’s Guard-their horses as stiff as the men themselves. General Cerny led them. Back straight and chest puffed out in his uniform with its crimson scrollwork running down the sleeves, the man was all smiles. A prickle ran through Stefan.

“Good to see you’re safe. We had reports of an encounter with Svenzar within the Travelshafts,” Cerny said as Stefan drew up in front of them. His horse whinnied and shied away from Stefan’s dartan. With a deft move of his legs, Cerny brought his mount under control and threw Stefan a fur-lined cloak. A curious expression crossed his face as he took in Stefan’s dartan.

“Thank you. Glad to be safe.” Stefan attempted to sound as genuine as possible as he caught the garment and slung it over his shoulders. “The Svenzar were preoccupied with their raid. I was able to sneak by.” He nodded toward the guards. The men did not acknowledge him. “I gather the King received word from Karsten?”

“Yes.” Cerny peered at him over his bulbous nose. “An eagle arrived earlier today. The message said you reached Karsten near death … and alone.” His eyebrows rose questioningly.

“I did.” Stefan kept his face stoic but questions abounded. If the Cerny knew he left from Karsten, then he was aware of Stefan’s Dagodin escort. Why not ask after them?

“Defeat then.” Voice low but not quite a whisper, almost as if he was rolling the word around on his tongue, Cerny raised his hairless brows.

“Yes,” Stefan said, allowing his shoulders to slump and holding his head down for a moment.

“I think the King may have expected it, as did I.” Cerny’s tone carried the hint of a gloat.

“I guess that explains the numbers Nerian appears to be sending to the front.” Stefan wheeled his dartan to face the Travelshaft. He counted at least ten separate legions. Among them there were six made up entirely of Alzari. Several cohorts of men and women in flowing gold and green robes led them. The number of High Alzari was nothing less than astounding.

“He reacted a bit … angrily to your apparent defeat in the field. I suggest you soothe his temper.”

For the briefest moment, Stefan considered ignoring the man again. Instead, he said, “My ability to influence Nerian disappeared when I begged away from leading the first assaults into Erastonian territory.”

“I’ll pray to the gods for you then,” Cerny said.

Brows raised, Stefan cocked his head to one side to regard the General. “Things are that bad?”

Cerny let out a deep breath and nodded. “Worse. One of my men overheard the King saying you should have died with your men.”

And you tried to fulfill the King’s wish by sending the assassins in the Travelshaft, didn’t you? Stefan shrugged. “It won’t be the first time he’s threatened my life over the last few years. Certainly won’t be the last.”

“I guess.” Cerny peered around as if gauging the distance between the King’s Guard and them. “But,” he whispered under his breath. “If you should need my help in securing a way-”

“I’ll take my chances,” Stefan said, cutting the man off. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep your suggestion to myself.”

Cerny gave Stefan a slight bow. “Then let’s not keep the King waiting.”

Smiling inwardly at Cerny’s sullen expression, Stefan slapped his reins and sent the dartan trotting up the cobbled road. The King’s Guard didn’t need to clear a path for him as the sight of the dartan created ample room. He yearned to rush off and have his family start their exodus, but the King had given him little choice but to attend to him first. Somehow, he needed to get word to Thania. The chances of leaving Nerian’s presence alive seemed more uncertain now than ever.