Mark Newton: Nights of Villjamur

'Beetles?' Apium enquired.

'Yes, some of it. He'd already lost up to his knee from the blast. I stopped the bleeding, left him here for a bit, and… well.'

'At least it wasn't gheels. So, how many of us are left, sir?' Apium sat down on the ground beside Brynd with a groan.

'You're looking at us.'

'By the balls of the dragon gods of Varltung.' The captain shook his head.

'I wouldn't mention that nation's name right now.'

'You suspect it's them?'

'Ah, who knows.'

'So, what happened to you, commander?'

'Think I was thrown right from the ship into the forest,' Brynd explained. 'But the trees must've broken my fall. How about you?'

'I was on the shore when your ship… went up. Saw the archers heading into the forest, so I followed them. Got one of them, saw two others dead as I came back. I looked around for a catapult – because something must've propelled that fire – but there was nothing to see. Just an empty clearing. There were at least four of us on the shore – like, Gyn, Boldar, Awul – but they weren't there when I got back.'

Silence.

To see your comrades die was something to be expected in the army. It was tough, of course. You formed a close bond. Men became an extended family. You saw more of the world together than most lovers ever would. There would be mourning, that was certain, as there always was. Brynd couldn't let it get to him right now, though, so he placed the issue into a region of his mind that he would later revisit.

'Any idea who did this?' Apium asked. 'Not the clansmen, I mean, but who actually planned it?'

After a pause Brynd muttered, 'It's a set-up. Someone in Villjamur wanted this to happen.'

'But why?'

'So we're not properly prepared for the Freeze, I guess. Otherwise, no idea, really.'

'Leaves us well screwed,' Apium continued. 'Do you think we should've brought a cultist along with us?'

'It's all well and good saying that now, but everyone wanted to keep this low-key. That was the whole point, wasn't it? Cultists would've only drawn more attention. And they would've known too, which defeats the objective. Although why all this secrecy just for a bit of fuel? I realize Johynn wants us relying on them less. You know, he even told me before we came away that he suspected the cultists would bugger off to do their own thing during the ice age. It's not exactly classified information that he wants to be able to manage things without them, get used to them not being around. He might be a little weird at times, but there's some wisdom there, I'll say that much.'

'Hmm.' Apium wore an expression of uncertainty. 'Still, would've helped though.'

'I'm going to be asking some awkward questions when we get back home.'

'So you think we're going to be in trouble?' Apium suggested.

'It's not by any means an emergency. There's enough wood in the forests across the Empire to keep the home fires burning, for sure. This was more Johynn's doing. He was convinced the firegrain was needed – and you know what his mind's been like of late.'

Apium stifled a laugh, then he pointed through the trees.

Two moons could be seen between the tall hills rising either side of the fjord, one moon significantly larger than the other, and both an ethereal white, hanging low in the sky. Astrid, the smaller, appeared sometimes to be unnatural, as if it was made of some pale ore, out of place even – something Brynd felt an affinity for.

The men stared for several moments. There was a sense of stillness. Stars gradually defined the hillside.

'Looking nice tonight, aren't they?' Apium said. 'Strange to think they'll do it.'

'What?'

'The ice age. Strange to think just the moons are causing it.'

'When you think about it logically-'

'You see, that's your problem. I just said it's weird that it comes to that. You never just think plainly about stuff.'

'It's not a plain world, captain.'

'You need to get laid more often,' Apium grumbled, lying back flat on the ground, his arms behind his head.

Brynd stood up suddenly. He could perceive movement nearby.

'What's wrong with you?' Apium said. 'Touched a nerve, have I?'

Brynd gestured for him to silence.

The red-haired man pushed himself upright to follow Brynd's gaze. 'Can't see anything.'

Brynd stepped to the right, his eyes wide, alert. Within seconds he knew Apium had lost him, could see the man's gormless face lit up by the moon, even at a distance. How Apium had managed to stay alive in the Night Guard was beyond Brynd. Perhaps he worshipped some outlawed god who knew something no one else did. The injections this elite group received on their induction should have worn off over the years due to Apium's excessive drinking.

Brynd took several slow steps over to where he had seen the foliage move. He reached carefully for his sabre. Behind a sapling, he saw him. A man, naked, covered in mud. Brynd frowned, then reached for a stone from the ground. He threw it, the stone connected, but the man didn't move, didn't even flinch. Brynd repeated the action. Still no movement. He whistled back to Apium.

After a few seconds, his companion shambled through the forest to his side. 'What's up?'

'There's a man over there.' Brynd indicated the figure. 'He's naked.'

'Naked?'

'I said naked.'

'You're right,' Apium said. 'What's he doing way out here with nothing on? Bit of outdoors action, eh?'

'How the hell should I know?' Brynd said. Little harm could come from investigating this, surely? There was no sign of anyone else around, and he was sure they were alone. 'Let's get closer.' Brynd led the way towards the naked man, who had remained still for some time. If he was aware of their approach, he didn't show it.

'The Sele of Jamur to you, sir,' Brynd said, thinking the traditional Jamur greeting would prompt some response. Nothing. He looked the man up and down. 'You, er… you must be cold.'

Apium snorted a laugh.

The man still didn't move, just stared vacantly ahead. They stepped cautiously to within an armspan of him, noticing his face lacked blood as if totally drained of it. His eyes were slightly slanted, and they gazed directly past Brynd. There were strange wounds around his neck, then Brynd noticed that his head was shaven unevenly, so that tufts of black hair blossomed on it in patches.

'Looks dead, doesn't he?' Apium remarked.

Brynd reached out, prodded the man in the chest. Still no reaction. The commander took a bold step forward and reached out to feel his wrist. 'Well, I'll swear by Bohr, he is.'

'What?' Apium gasped. 'Dead?'

'Yes. There's no sign of pulse.' He let go of his wrist, and the man's arm slumped back to his side.

'This is cultist work, Brynd,' Apium warned, reaching for Brynd's shoulder with fear in his eyes. 'Nothing natural here. I don't like it. I've no idea what they've done to him, but we should send this fellow on his way and stay with Fyir. In fact, I think we ought to move off a little.'

Although stunned, Brynd didn't know what to make of it. A hardened soldier, he was used to seeing the worst of life, but this individual out here spoke of technologies he was unaware of. What options did he have? If they killed this man, there might be more in waiting. Should he provoke it? In their depleted state, Brynd considered it best to leave things be and report it back in Villjamur. 'I think you're right. This can wait. I'll maybe put it in a report.'

They carried Fyir gently to the ruins of an Azimuth temple.

Little was known about that civilization, and hardly anything was left there aside from hidden and subtle masonry. One of the towers had fallen so that it rested flat against a hillside, just beyond Daluk Point, the lower side now wedged firmly into the slope. Lichen and mosses suffocated much of it, but there were still discernible patterns, squares within squares, that were known to be traditional religious symbols. It was thought that the Azimuth had worshipped numerology and mathematical precision, a sentiment he liked: looking for beauty in the most abstract of places. Brynd pondered this reverence as Apium fell asleep alongside Fyir.