“You may need it, the road to the Northern Reaches will be long and hazardous. These people will need your protection.”
“There are other forms of protection. I’ve spilled enough blood with this. I intend to live the rest of my days without taking another life.”
Vaelin took the sword. “When will you leave?”
“There’s no point waiting for winter. Convincing the others may be difficult though. Some of them have been here for years.” He paused, his expression oddly sheepish. “I didn’t kill the bear.”
“What?”
“During the Test of the Wild. I didn’t kill it. The shelter I built collapsed in the wind. I was desperate, freezing, wandering in the snow. I found a cave and thought the Departed had guided me to shelter. Unfortunately, the bear who lived there didn’t appreciate visitors. It chased me for miles, all the way to the edge of a cliff. I managed to grab on to a branch, the bear wasn’t so lucky. Kept me fed for a while though.”
Vaelin laughed, the sound was strange amidst the ruins, out of place. “You bloody liar.”
Nortah grinned. “Next to the bow it was my major talent.” His smile faded. “I’ll miss you, and the others. Can’t say I’m sorry about the Battle Lord though.”
They walked back to the camp, fed the waning fire and talked of the Order and their brothers for hours. When Nortah finally went to the shelter he shared with Sella, Vaelin settled down in his cloak knowing that in the morning he would wake early and leave without a farewell. The reason came to him before he tumbled into sleep: I want to stay.
Part IV
In addition to his many lies regarding the supposed perfidy of Alpiran interlopers, King Janus had need of a legal device to supplement his premise for war. Accordingly, extensive digging into the royal archive unearthed an obscure treaty dating back some four hundred years. What was in fact a lapsed and fairly standard trade agreement on tariffs between the Lord of Asrael and the then independent city states of Untesh and Marbellis enabled the king’s Lord of Justice to seize on a minor clause formalising arrangements to cooperate in suppressing Meldenean pirates. Through a mixture of inventive translation from the original Alpiran text and basic sophistry this clause was twisted into an invitation to assume sovereignty. Thus was the lie fabricated that the invasion was simply a seizure of property which already belonged to the king.
The invasion fleet arrived off the Alpiran coast on the 96th day of Emperor Aluran’s reign (all praise his wisdom and benevolence). Although the recent deterioration in relations between our empire (may it live forever) and the Unified Realm had caused some imperial advisors to warn of a possible invasion, the comparative smallness of King Janus’ fleet led many to discount their fears. The imperial mathematician Rerien Alturs calculated that to deposit the Realm Guard on our coast would require a fleet of at least fifteen hundred ships and the Realm possessed barely five hundred of which only half were warships. Sadly, no word had reached our ears of the treacherous actions of the Meldenean pirate nation (may the ocean rise to swallow their islands) in agreeing to ferry the Realm forces across the Erinean sea. Sources disagree on the price paid by Janus for this service, opinion ranging from no less than three million gold pieces to the offer of his daughter in marriage to a Meldenean of suitable rank, but the cost must have been high indeed for the pirates to set aside their hatred of the Northmen born of the destruction of their city twenty years earlier.
It was the greatest misfortune that the Hope was at that very moment engaged in a ceremonial visit to the Temple of the Goddess Muisil in Untesh, accompanied by one hundred men of the Imperial Horse Guard. He was therefore only ten miles from the landing site when a terrified fisherman arrived with news of a Meldenean raiding party of previously unseen size. The Hope immediately mobilised the local garrison, some three thousand horse and five thousand spears, setting out in the dead of night to confront the invaders and sweep them back into the sea. It took several hours to assemble the force and march to the coast. If his force had moved only fractionally quicker the Hope would have had a chance to deal a serious, possibly fatal blow to the forces still assembling on the beach. However, the first Realm Guard regiment to land had already formed ranks to defend the narrow track through the dunes leading to the beach. At their head was the most fanatical and ferocious warrior priest of the Unified Realm’s heretic faith: Valin il Sorna (curse his name for all the ages).
Verniers Alishe Someren, The Great War of Salvation, vol. 1 (unrevised text). Alpiran Imperial Archives.
Verniers’ Account
“It must have pained you,” I said, “finding your brother’s body. Seeing him so... mutilated.”
The Northman got to his feet, rubbing at the stiffness in his legs and groaning as he stretched his back. “Not the most pleasant sight,” he agreed. “I gave what was left to the fire, took his sword and his medallion back to the Order. The King and Aspect Arlyn accepted my word without question. The Battle Lord, understandably, was less trusting, naming me a traitor and a liar. I think he would have challenged me too if the King hadn’t ordered him to silence.”
“And the mysterious beast that killed Nortah,” I said. “Did you ever discover what manner of creature it was?”
“They say wolves grow large in the north. In the eastern crags there are ferocious apes twice the size of a man with faces like dogs.” He shrugged. “There are many dangers in nature.”
He moved to the stairs leading to the deck and began to ascend. “I feel the need of some fresh air.”
I followed him out into the night. The sky was cloudless and the moon bright, painting the ship’s rigging a pale blue as it swayed in the stiff sea breeze. The only crewmen I could see were the helmsman and the dim shape of a boy perched high on the main-mast. “Captain told you to stay in the hold,” the helmsman growled.
“Then go and wake him,” I suggested before joining Al Sorna. He stood resting his forearms on the rail, staring out at the moonlit sea, his expression distant.
“The Teeth of Moesis,” he said, pointing to a cluster of white specks in the distance where waves were breaking on a series of jagged rocks. “Moesis is the Meldenean god of the hunt, a great serpent who fought Margentis, the giant orca god for a day and a night. So great was their struggle they made the sea boil and forced the continents apart. When it was over and Moesis floated dead in the surf his body rotted away but his teeth were left to mark his passing. His spirit joined with the sea and when the Meldeneans rose to hunt the waves it was to him they looked for guidance, for his teeth mark the way to their homeland. We’re in Meldenean waters now. Where I believe your ships never venture.”
“Meldeneans are pirate scum,” I said simply. “Any of our ships would make a valuable prize.”
“And yet the lady Emeren’s vessel was taken here.”
I said nothing. I had unsettling questions of my own on this matter but was reluctant to discuss them with him.
“I understand the ship and crew were allowed to sail on their way,” he went on. “Only the lady was taken.”