A heavy snow fall came with the night, making dots of glistening white prominent among the curtain of black that covered the sky. Damien had gathered everyone to share a night at an eatery named Caidman's Hall. The eatery was large, with two floors for seating and a stage where bands and minstrels could play for the crowds that gathered there. Most of the taverns and eateries in Shiemin were built like that, the city being mostly a gigantic stretch of businesses that ran along the main avenue in a south to north fashion. Beyond the main avenue there were houses and smaller Shoppes, fanning out either way deep into the woodland.
They shared stories all night, Diela Shar staying for the night due to the treacherous weather that filled the sky with wind and snow. Kamil said an awkward hello to her when she approached him, telling him how good it was to see him again. Benmont felt a new fire in him watching the pair of them, fire that had naught to do with anger. He pretended to ignore them, content with the fact that he was among his companions again.
Cameron told them of Creed Soames, the kind nobleman that aided them when the fled from Twin Port and the fate that befell him. Damien bowed his head and offered a prayer for the man. Kirstin turned a bit pale, smiling at Benmont and telling him she was fine when he asked what was bothering her.
Benmont told them of his battle aboard the sailing vessel, and the strange man that aided him. He didn't bother to mention his dead mother finding him and telling him that she aided him in that fight as well. He mentioned the name Jared Tombes and Cameron cocked his head, giving him a curious look.
"Do you know him, Cameron?"
"The name is familiar. Perhaps I know him."
"Who was responsible for the attack?" Damien asked after he took a mouthful of food in. "Do you think that it was the king's men?"
"No," Benmont told him, "I have reason to believe that it was a nobleman named Alanz that hired those men. He seems to have some reason for hating me."
"Benmont Grimnight!" Diela Shar shouted from across the table, forgetting her manners with her anger, "You know no such thing! Alanz acts aloof to anyone that he speaks with. He likes to tease sometimes. That is no reason to accuse him of murder!"
"Don't be naive, lady," Benmont shot back, "I saw the way he looks at you, and the way he does at me. I think he feels some sort of jealousy about us talking to each other. He probably doesn't think I'm good enough to speak with nobility."
"Now you slander his name when he isn't here to defend himself!"
"A good thing, too. If he were here he probably would have put a knife in my back by now."
"Would you two care to be alone, Grim?" Kamil asked, putting a hand under his chin and fixing Benmont with a wry smile. Diela sat back in her, offering her apologies to everyone at the table while Benmont fumed, fists clenched into tight balls under the table.
"There's no need to apologize, lady," Kamil told her, "I know how you can get when you're near Benmont. He seems to have that affect on people." Ferrin hid his face behind his goblet, shoulders rising and falling with laughter. Kirstin put a napkin to her mouth as she began coughing.
"I am glad you found us when you did," Damien broke in, "This means that we will be able to head north so much faster. We can probably begin as soon as tomorrow morning. I suggest that you find a horse that suits you so we do not lose any time."
"Of course, father," Benmont said. He lowered himself and began spooning in his stew as fast as he could swallow it. Ferrin gulped heavily once and looked at the priest.
I don't need a horse, father. If it's alright I think that I'll ride with you.
That's fine, Ferrin. You didn't happen to get into trouble in your travels, did you?
Ferrin shrugged innocently and smiled. "Very well," Damien said, "Let us get some sleep for the night."
Diela woke early that morning, taking time to bathe and comb out her properly before dressing and making her way to the floor of the Inn. She placed her key on the desk, not bothering to wake the old man that was sleeping in his chair as she passed. She knew the coach would be ready to return her to Diez. Leaving the Inn, she was startled to see Benmont standing on the step of the porch, watching the sun rise from the forest ridges. She shivered briefly as she became accustomed to the cold and pulled her fur cloak tighter about her. Benmont said nothing as she approached him, standing motionless like a statue.
"You are awake quite early, master Grimnight."
"I am sorry for snapping at you last night, Diela. That was wrong of me to become so angry. I know that I embarrassed you."
"Think nothing of it," she replied, "I shouldn't have been so fast to second guess you. It could have been Alanz. I will ask him about it when I return to Diez. If he is guilty as you say I should notice something."
"No!" Benmont turned around and grabbed both of her hands in his. She blushed at his intense gaze and he lowered his eyes. "No," he repeated. "If he is guilty and you confront him he may try to harm you. I couldn't allow that to happen. Promise that you will not speak with about it."
"Alright, Benmont. I promise."
"What's that?" Benmont said mockingly, smiling at her, "No argument? Are you not feeling well?"
"When did you discover a sense of humor, master Grimnight?"
"I had to keep it hidden," Benmont informed her, "I was afraid that Ferrin might steal it from me." Diela let out a loud laugh, but clapped her hand over her mouth. Her face turned bright pink and her eyes became watery.
Just then the horses and coach came wheeling around from the side of the Inn, pulling to a stop when the driver brought it to the front step. Diela had never been so unhappy to see the coach master in her entire life. Benmont frowned, but was quick to make his face go straight again.
"I suppose this is where we part ways, master Grimnight."
"Take care, Diela."
"You will...visit me again?" she asked, her eyes hopeful.
"When I am near Diez I will make it my business to visit you again. Besides, I did properly thank your mother for the kindness that she had shown me." He walked her to the coach, opening the door for her to climb in. She paused at the last, looking at him plainly. She leaned toward him, eyes closed, and pressed her mouth against his. Benmont was startled, but didn't pull away, returning the kiss. She pulled away from him, smiling meekly.
"I will miss you, Benmont."
"And I will miss you as well," he told her awkwardly. He realized that after he said it, the words had a ring of truth. He would miss her. Stepping away, he allowed her to enter the coach and pull the door shut behind her.
"Tell Ferrin and Verion goodbye for me, will you?"
"Of course, lady."
"Benmont?" she asked, leaning some out the window to the coach, "Why did Kamil call you Grim?"
"It is a name that he and Ferrin thought up for me. A nick name, I suppose."
"Well then, I will see you later, Grim," she said with a smile, leaning back into the coach and telling the driver to go. He had a wild impulse to tell her to stop but suppressed it. He did stand out in the street until the coach had vanished from his sight. Ankle deep in still falling snow, Benmont lowered his head, remaining there for some time to come.
By midmorning Benmont had a riding horse from the local stables and Ferrin rode behind the good father. Verion still opted for the wilderness, telling them that he would meet them when night fell but not to expect him to be present during the day.
"What else is new?" Benmont muttered.
Two days north of Shiemin on a particularly snowy mid morning, they came over a rise to find a gigantic wooden wall, better than twenty feet in height, ending with sharpened spikes at the top. Two wooden guard towers were erected on either side of heavy doors barring the highway beyond. There was a walk on the other side of the walls because soldiers were patrolling as far as could be seen into the depths of the forest. Voices could be heard from the tower as soon as they were in sight of it, men standing at the ready from where they were in the towers and along the wall. Cameron led his party right to the front gates where the wall's defenders bid him to halt.
"We seek passage beyond the wall," Cameron shouted up to the guards watching them. The deep blue banner of the soaring eagle waved in the wind from the right tower.
"What is your reason for heading into the north?" one of the guards demanded to know. "The ageless roam along Canvese's borders, and demorn are more rampant beyond here. To pass beyond this wall means that you forfeit the protection of Avalon."
"What of Ohm? Is that city no longer under the kingdom's protection?" Cameron asked them, using an open hand to fend off the falling flakes.
"The city has a militia more than capable of handling any occurrence. The mayor of the city also knows that Avalon stands ready to lend aid if the need would ever arise. But the road to Ohm is long, traveler."
"I understand," Cameron replied, "But that doesn't lessen our need any more."
"Very well," the guard shouted down, commanding soldiers that stood with him to unlatch and open the doors. The locking bar drew back with a distinct click and then there was the whir of gears grinding as men wound pulleys. Both of the doors swung inward, creaking loudly as they moved until both stopped, freeing the access to the highway beyond. Cameron snapped the reins of his horse, telling the others to follow him. Riding beyond the doors they could see camp houses where guards slept and ate, better then four or five on either side. The warrior estimated that there had to be near fifty men guarding this wall, which meant that the ageless must have attempted a recent attack. As Kamil, who came through last, passed beyond the doors, they began to grind closed, clanking as huge metal gears worked again. Then the road south vanished from sight.
That night they made camp under the cover of a small cavern that was deserted. The mouth of the cave was broad enough to allow a fire to be built inside it, letting the smoke trail along the roof until it wandered out the top. Verion told them that the smell of animals inside was quite old. Nothing had dwelt within it for a long time. A snow storm filled the sky that night, sending down thick, wet flakes across the limbs of the trees. Soon there was nothing but glistening white where the black swath of sky ended and the forest began. Cameron took care to stoke the fire periodically, warding off the coming cold as winds screamed through tree limbs, making them waver and bend at awkward angles. Verion sat at the mouth of the cavern, vigilant to anything that happened to move in the woodland. The centiant cast his eyes back to the warrior and huddled closer to the flames, though the cold didn't affect him. Cold or heat made little difference to one that was so attuned with nature.
"The priest takes you along a dangerous path, Cameron Reol," Verion said as he sat on the cavern floor, cross legged.
"Tell me something I don't know," Cameron replied as he ran a whet stone along the edge of the sword that balanced on his knees. The centiant grimaced at the metal blade.
"I will tell you that Ferrin's people are to the north. I told him of them while we travelled to find you. He wishes to see them, to know where he came from. I do not know how he came so far south. But, whoever brought him south as a pup never told him of his heritage. Cameron Reol, I would take him from you when we reach his homeland in the north."
"Are you sure he wants to part ways with us? Ferrin seems to like the father a great deal."
"He will want to come along with me. Would you not wish to know where you came from? The Casaama Tribe dwells along the western reaches of the Canvese Mountains."
"Casaama Tribe?" Cameron mouthed.
"The tribe of the ferret, in my tongue."
"That's fitting," Cameron laughed, sliding his broad sword back into the scabbard behind him. "You can take Ferrin, Verion, but not until Damien has done what he came for. Not before."
"What does he hope to accomplish?" Verion questioned.
"I can't say. Only Damien could answer that. It better be something really important for us to be forgoing the protection of Avalon kingdom. What do you know of the ageless, Verion?"
"A race older on Umbriel then even my own. The Council of Stone was founded among my people when the ageless were still known as the gedra. It is said that the ageless first began their war with humans four hundred years ago. The ageless had practices that were considered to be magical in nature. The Council of Stone, fearing the wrath of humans hunting them, broke ancient pacts with the gedra, parting ways and trekking south. That is where most of my people still dwell, within the great forest. The gedra fled north, past the land now dubbed the Crossing, fighting a losing war with the human kingdoms of Southcross and Avalon. In the end, almost two centuries ago, they were pushed beyond the boundaries of Umbriel, into the wastelands that dominated the north. It has since then been named the Land of the Ageless. The parting of the gedra with the centiant is the greatest sin in our people's proud history."
"How did the gedra come to be known as the ageless? I've never heard them called by that name before."
"Humans named them such, due to the fact that the gedra had so long a life span. They lived for five centuries or longer, aging slowly as time passed swiftly for those that shared the land around them. That was one of the reasons the human armies rallied against them, fearing that such a thing was devilish power at work."
"But it was never proven that the gedra were worshippers of the dark, not the land like your people?" Cameron asked.
"It was not."
"What do you think, Verion?"
The centiant arched a thick eyebrow at the question, rubbing his chin between his fingers. "The humans feared the gedra because they knew the secret of longevity, while they did not. Not even the centiant can live that long. Perhaps magic was a convenient excuse to label something that they did not understand. Perhaps the gedra truly were servants of the devils in Hell. Since I was not alive four hundred years ago, I cannot tell you what the true purpose of the ancient war was, Cameron Reol. Speculation will not make answers forthcoming."
"Of course," Cameron shrugged, leaning back on the cavern wall. The centiant continued to stare at him plainly. "But I think you should repeat this all to the father when he wakes up tomorrow."
Verion suddenly shot up, eyes narrowing as he scooped up the quarter staff he always carried with him. His massive frame lowered, broad shoulders nearly sweeping the wall as he stepped away from the fire light, a stony look filling his face once more. Cameron was up almost as fast, the sword that he just set aside free of the sheathe that held it. He fell in beside Verion, eyes straining to scan the dark beyond. He thought he saw something move beyond the radius of the firelight.
"Verion," Cameron whispered without taking his eyes from the forest, "what do you see out there?"
"Wait here, Cameron Reol. I will discover the nature of our trespasser alone." In silence he crept into the wood line, picking up his pace until his run was far beyond human capability, chasing a silhouette in the night that carried with it a familiar scent. Running through trees, letting the wood and leaves pass clean through him as if he weren't there, Verion leapt clear over a small hill, better then forty feet, and landed silently at the bottom, where the silhouette awaited him by a stream's frozen edge. Standing bare foot in ankle deep snow was Raisha. Verion's brother crouched by the stream, touching a bare hand to the ice and closing his eyes. Verion lowered his staff until it was jutting into the snow, both hands clasped over the smooth wood. Raisha at last turned to look at him.
"Brother," he began, his tone quiet, "I have come seeking you. The Council of Stone sent me to retrieve you; they said that the spell binding you to the humans has been broken. I have come to tell you that you may come home, Verion."
"I cannot, brother. I am bound to the service of a human priest. He freed me from the spell of the saevant. I will aid them until they need me no more."
"You have always been too comfortable lending aid to humans, Verion. Come back to the great forest, my brother. Tiar is sick with worry. She wishes very much to see you again."
"I will return to Tiar and the council, when I have returned from the north."
"So what I have heard was true. You were telling that human of the great shame that our people carry with us. You know that to speak so of the ageless is forbidden by the council, Verion!" Raisha stood from the stream, anger tainting his voice. The anger seemed to flow from him, causing the ice layered stream to crack in a dozen directions, water seeping through the cracks to saturate the snow surrounding it.
"Why do you refer to the gedra in such a manner, Raisha? They were brothers to us, Raisha, long ago. Any of the council will say as much. You say that I have been among humans too often? Why is it then, that you speak with the plain ignorance that most humans deem to covet?"
"Verion!" Raisha exclaimed, his voice booming as the wind exploded around the pair. It shrieked wildly and tore at the branches, pulling them free of the trees that they clung to. The snow formed a whirl wind about them, making a flurried wall of white that blinded them to anything beyond.
"Brother, what stokes your anger more? The fact that I travel among humans or the fact that humans now know of our people's treachery?" Raisha quivered, fists clenched as he fought his anger, pushing it back into him. The forest had suffered enough because of him. Verion always had a way of stoking anger in any that shared heated words with him, but he would not fall so low. Breathing in deeply and letting it back out was all it took to make the tempest cease. Verion only stood there, looking plainly at him.
"How could you tell them of the gedra, brother? Knowledge that ancient cannot aid humans. What possible use do they have for it?"
"The human priest, Damien Alohm, has been summoned through the dream to travel into the land of the gedra. I told the humans so they would not stumble blindly across these people."
"What if the legends are true, Verion? What if they are practitioners of the black arts? What will you do then? Surely the gedra will not allow you to leave their plains alive."
"Speculation, Raisha. I am tired of speculation, brother. I wish to discover the truth, as I am sure the human priest is. He has been summoned." Verion stepped closer to one of the many evergreens that grew plentiful in the forest. It spoke to him in secret whispers, rustling around him as the centiant put an open hand upon it. "There is another reason as well, brother."
"Another reason?" Raisha said at Verion's back.
"A drudic travels with them. I am taking him to see his people. This one is very young, has no knowledge of his heritage, or his people. I am taking him there once we pass beyond the northern mountains."
"I thought I caught his scent, brother." Raisha told him plainly, all the emotion drained from his voice. "Very well brother, I will not ask of you to return to your people, to your mate who worries for you even if you do not worry for yourself. I will tell the Council of Stone that I did not yet find you. But brother, take care to tell the humans only that which they need to know. You will do this, for me if for nothing else?"
"I will, Raisha. Tell Tiar that I will be coming home to her soon; before the cold has retreated north again I will hold her once more. Will you tell her this?"
"Of course, brother," Raisha replied with a sad smile, wrapping his arms around Verion and embracing him in a hug. Verion returned the gesture and the forest fell silent, every tree and animal giving the brothers their privacy. Raisha stepped back, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder, "You will do well, my brother. But you might do well to rein in that little drudic. His curious nature may be a danger to you." Without another word the centiant flashed away in a blur, every leap taking him dozens of feet and each landing barely displacing snow before he was gone again, a shadow in the winter's night.
Verion craned his neck back toward a particularly large evergreen, one that carried a small shadow in its upper limbs. "You may come down now, Ferrin."
The spindly limbed thief leapt to the forest floor, landing on all fours and smiling sheepishly from ear to ear. The centiant offered a hand and Ferrin clasped it, standing straight and brushing snow from his leggings.
"Come, Ferrin. The dawn will be upon us soon. There is much land to cover before we come to the mountains." Ferrin fell in behind Verion as the centiant marched back to the camp sight, leaving the broken stream behind, still gouting water from a dozen holes in it.
By the dawning light of the rising sun they broke camp, riding on horseback from the cavern and making their way along the highway. There was no green left in the land, only the sparkling sheet of crystal white snow all about them. The land was beautiful in a sterile way, still and silent. By midday they had come upon a gigantic lake in the depths of a sloping valley. Towering pines surrounded the valley in a crescent shape, with the southern slope of the valley open fields that descended onto a rocky shore line. The lake was only frozen over at its fringes, the bulk of the calm deep blue still visible as they rode their horses along the highway. A cliff descended sharply on the eastern back if the road, a drop of better than twenty feet to the shore about the lake. There seemed to be several small huts along the north side of the lake, with a single dock stretching out onto the surface for twenty or twenty five feet.
"This is Homefall Lake," Verion explained as they travelled by it. During the summer one can come here and watch the glow flies fill the lake's surface. I do not recall any dwellings here when I was last in this area, however."
"There's no smoke coming from any of the chimneys there," Cameron said, reining his horse closer to the cliff.
"Perhaps we should stop to make sure that the people there are alright," Damien added in, bringing his horse beside Cameron's.
"Forget it," Benmont said from behind them, "I have bad luck with cabins and the like. If there's no smoke there then there are no people there either. Only a fool would fail to light a fire when it's this cold outside."
"Still Benmont," Damien replied, "They may need our help. Let us go."
"Yeah, Grim," Kamil said as he rode past him, "where's your sense of adventure?"
"Whatever you say, father," Cameron dropped off the saddle of his horse, "But it doesn't take all of us to explore a handful of shacks. Father, you and Ferrin come with me. Verion, stay here to watch over the others, will you?"
"Pardon me, Cameron, but I was defending myself before I ever ran into the lot of you," Benmont snarled, putting his arms across his chest and staring daggers at him. Kamil followed the gesture and cupped a hand over the hilt of his sword.
"This is no time to be stubborn, Benmont. Stay here with the horses. If there's danger we'll be sure to let you know." Cameron motioned for Ferrin and the father to follow him as he slid down the cliff wall, stopping a half dozen paces from the frozen water along the bank. Ferrin dropped gracefully beside him, barely making a sound as he landed, the father not so in form, nearly tripping over his travel coat as he came down. He teetered and nearly fell into the lake, stopped only when Ferrin put a hand out to grab his side.
Cameron lead them around the lake, trekking knee deep in fresh snow, fumbling over exposed roots that were concealed by the snow fall. They skirted the edge of the lake until they came to a trio of run down shacks that looked as if they hadn't been used for years. The windows were dusted over and broken at the corners. Roofing shingles were hanging at precarious angles, matching the doors for two of the shacks. Cameron stopped short of the shacks when he noticed foot falls marring the snow, both booted and horse hooves. A sharp gesture sent Ferrin around the other end of the shacks, the youth scurrying until he slid to a stop near the corner of the middle shack. The youth back peddled in a hurry, putting his back to the wall and casting his eyes back to Cameron and the good father.
What do you see? Cameron signed to him.
There is a man, dressed in some kind of chain armor, with an ax. He has a horse reined to a tree and seems to be looking through the last shack. He's coming this way! Don't attack him, he doesn't smell hostile! Ferrin stopped signing and turned to face to shack he was using for cover, pausing briefly before leaping straight up and catching the roof, pulling himself out of sight just as a warrior turned the corner, hand on the haft of an ax he had strapped over his back. The man was dark haired and uncouth, his hair running wild down to his shoulders. It seemed that he hadn't shaven in some time. A hip satchel hung off his left side and he wore a heavy cloak with fur trimmed boots over his chain armor, the tunic stopping just before it reached his knees.
"Could've sworn I heard something here," the man muttered to himself.
"That could have been us," Cameron said as he stepped away from the shack's corner, sword out and poised before him. The strange warrior wrenched the ax from his back and leveled it at Cameron, the blade glinting in the light.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Please," Damien began as he stood behind Cameron, "There is no need for battle. Ferrin said that he believes you are not hostile. Is this true?"
"I am only looking for someone. I paused here to see what befell the people that must have lived here, but they are gone, spirited away some time ago, I think." His tone was mellow enough, but he still kept the axe in front of him, his gaze flickering between the warrior and the priest that travelled with him.
"Look, friend, Cameron told him, "Why don't you put the ax down and we can talk more freely. Perhaps we have seen this person you're looking for. Fighting can be avoided here. Besides, we happen to have you surrounded."
The warrior spun around fast to find Ferrin there, a dagger in each hand, a smug grin painting his face. The warrior paused, glancing from the strange young man to the pair behind him.
"Forgive me. I'm sure that this is a strange place to cross paths. My name is Jared Tombes. I have come north in search of a young man that I met the acquaintance of on a ship bound for Diez."
"Jared Tombes?" Cameron straightened, sheathing his sword, "Aren't you the same man that started an insurrection against Dagoth? I thought you were captured by the Honor Guard."
"Who might you be, stranger, to know so much about my life? It is true that I began a revolt in Dagoth. When King Mikal Steelbreeze passed on his brother fast grew to a tyrant. I heard stories of the man abusing his noble privileges for years from the people that lived under the laws of Dagoth. I would rather die than live under the heel of a tyrant."
"And I suppose that it is only coincidence you happened upon Benmont Grimnight? Do you know of his relations?" Cameron queried. Damien gave Jared a puzzled look, swiping a hand through his hair. Jared smiled deviously at the pair, letting the haft of the ax rest on his shoulder.
"Possibly I know of the boy's relation to the king. But rumor had it that there are three children that are causing the king no end of anxiety. I suppose that it's hard to lay claim to the High Throne when bastard heirs travel the land."
"Watch your mouth!" Damien shouted at him.
"My apologies, sir. Does this mean that you know him?"
"Let us continue this discussion elsewhere," Cameron told him, "The day wastes away and we have much ground to cover. You may come with us and stay at our camp for the night. After that, you are free to travel to the city of Ohm or wherever else the road takes you. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Jared replied.
The night was still when Jared Tombes sat near the fire that burned under the heavy branches of a giant pine tree not more than thirty paces from the highway. The sky was a host of stars, each sparkling and pure, forming a sheen of soft light that made the forest glow a pale silver light. The warrior's ax was slung on a saddle strap on his mount. He agreed that it was everyone's best interest that he didn't carry a weapon for the time being. Benmont Grimnight regarded him across the fire, a stern expression filling his face.
"I never got the chance to thank you, Jared," Benmont told the man, "I would have died on the deck of that ship if you wouldn't have been there. How was it that you knew when I was going to be attacked?" He suddenly leapt to his feet, one hand sinking into the snow as he crouched low, knees bent to keep him close to the fire. "Do you know who hired those men? Was it a young nobleman named Alanz? Alanz Enra?"
"I know no one by that name, master Grimnight. I confess, I do know that you are the heir to Dagoth." Benmont scowled and paced the radius of the flames, muttering things under his breath. "I am guessing that these two young people are the king's other children?" Jared waved a hand to Kirstin and Kamil. Kamil shot up from where he was sitting, spraying snow over Ferrin who shook a thin fist at him.
"That man is no father of mine!" Kamil screamed at Jared. "My father is Andor Dravan from Hamla! Andor Dravan! Do you hear me?" Kirstin stood and took hold of Kamil's arm but he jerked away with a snarl and stalked into the forest. A moment later Kirstin scooped up her sword and followed him into the starry night.
"Please, accept my apology," Jared said, standing fast, his face darkening some with a shade of red, "I had not known that the subject would invoke such...emotion in your companions."
"Only Kamil, Jared," Damien informed him. "He had been acting strangely for a long time now. He harbors secrets, that boy does." Damien realized his words were wasted. Jared was content staring at Cameron, his mouth working as though he were puzzling something out. Then recognition dawned in the man's eyes.
"I knew from the first that you looked familiar, Cameron. You have come a long way from Dagoth castle. Why would you be defying the will of the king?" Benmont wheeled around from his pacing, raising an eyebrow toward Jared. Cameron darkened, remaining silent.
"What are you talking about, Jared? Why would Cameron be at Dagoth castle? Kirstin told me that her father hired him to protect their estate from poachers. He is a wandering mercenary, isn't he?" Damien questioned.
"Perhaps now," Jared looked over at the priest. "But I remember a day in the village of Casteel, in the spring of last year, when the Honor Guard arrived on the king Mikal Steelbreeze word to escort a priest to the castle. Cameron was in their ranks. He was their leader as far as I could tell. Oh, he was better groomed, with that shining field plate on, but it was him, I know that for fact."
"Impossible!" Damien countered, "Why in the name of the One would Cameron Reol be a member of the Honor Guard, then find his way to Hamla, only to stand against the will of the reigning king?"
"I would not know the mind of the man," Jared said, suspicious eyes falling on Cameron, "But I know that only a year, perhaps eighteen months ago, he was their commander. Why do you not look to him for answers?"
Cameron visually swept them all in turn. Damien watched him with profound curiosity. Ferrin had much the same look on his face with a touch of caution mingled in. He seemed to scent the air as if he could tell a lie by smelling for one. Benmont craned his head from one man to the other slowly, disbelief mounting about him like a palpable force. Verion only gave him that same, plain face. Nothing seemed to faze the man. Sighing, he stepped away so he could take them all in.
"I suppose there is no use in denying it. I was a member of the Honor Guard. For eleven years I defended the honor of king and country without question, my loyalty unswerving. I have killed many for my country, serving first under Kalimon Steelbreeze, then Mikal. It was then that I made guard commander. It was one of the proudest moments of my life."
"How could you not tell us, Cameron?" Damien demanded, shaking a fist at the warrior. Benmont seemed nearly livid with rage. The big man laughed bitterly at him.
"After all of the deception I've faced you do this with us? My mother was killed by the man you served so proudly! Damn you to Hell!" Benmont lunged forward before anyone could act, swinging wildly with a closed fist a Cameron's head. The warrior side stepped the brutal punch and twisted his arm at the wrist. Bending it down, he brought Benmont to his knees, the big man trying in vain to free himself from the hold Cameron had on him.
"Why did you do this to us, Cameron? Tell me!"
"If you would listen to me, I will finish my story. Now listen," Cameron told him, pushing him back with a free hand, making him stumble backward. Verion helped him to his feet and Benmont went to charge him again but the centiant took hold of him, wrapping a massive arm around his neck.
"Let the man explain his actions, Benmont Grimnight. Then judge him. Acting rashly is the mark of a fool." Benmont glowered but remained still, closing his eyes as he fought to relax.
"Mikal took ill from the black fever as many of you must well know. Some say that he was poisoned by his brother, Darius. No one could prove it, so the accusations remained only that. Darius was nothing like his brother. He abused the power that his position granted him, did so even before he attained his kingship." Cameron stepped closer to the flames, trying to warm a cold that the fire couldn't touch. "He...killed someone, I think. A young woman from the village of Nemway, along the coast south of the castle. She didn't return his affections so he killed her. I found her in one of the church steeples near the courtyard. It looked like suicide, but there were bruises on her the likes of which a hanging couldn't do. Not unless she was taken with beating herself regularly."
"Name of the One," Damien mouthed, "Is that why you left the service of Dagoth?"
"It is. I couldn't stay there a moment longer so I tendered my resignation and left."
"What right does that give you to hold secrets from us Cameron?" Benmont growled from where the centiant still held him.
"Would you have trusted me then? Would you have followed me as you did? I did what I had to. You can rest assured that I am not a vassal of Dagoth. If you want me to leave, fine. I'm sure I can find more profitable and less dangerous work then helping you on this mad quest. I'm here...to thwart the king, if that's the way you wish to look at it."
"What do you say, father?" Benmont asked Damien.
The priest regarded Cameron for a time. The warrior stood there in silence, his face empty of emotion. "I think that a great revelation has been made this night. I also know the man called Cameron Reol. He has saved my life several times during our travels. I do not know the man that served under the banner of the blazing sword."
"Perhaps," Jared added in from where he stood opposite Cameron, "In that respect you and I are allies. Anything I can do to impair the might of Dagoth I will. In that I have a difficult question for Benmont and his siblings. One that I would have them hear as one."
Benmont was about to answer when he felt a feint tingle in his body, running like a shiver from his toes to his face. The staff he carried with him glowed white, if only a fraction. Then there was the voice of his mother in his mind, words alien to him, forming from a source he could not see.
"It is nearing, my son," Delia told him, her voice only echoing reflections of her, "The unforgiven will strike this night! If you do not act now my interference will be in vain! Go now and find him!" Verion reeled back, holding his head like he had just been struck and Ferrin snarled at the air pulling a dagger out so fast that it seemed only a blur.
"Father!" Benmont shouted as he hoisted up his staff, "We need to find Kamil, now!"
No comments:
Post a Comment