The Rise of Aredor Page 8

“He’s got a few of those bloody guards with him,” the first man said.

  “Don’t worry. They won’t be so lively with arrows sticking through them. Once they’re out of the way, the boy’ll be easy enough to take down. They’re coming on fast. Tell the others to get ready!” his leader said.

  * * *

  They were almost to the rocks when an arrow flashed from the rocks, narrowly missing Hamíd’s shoulder. Another followed, striking Inzi. She reared up, screaming in pain as two more thudded into her. She fell, throwing Hamíd clear. He lay still for a moment, trying to regain his breath.

  Castimir and Emeth strove to control their mounts as arrows whizzed by. Emeth cried out as a shaft hit him in the leg. He fell from Narak, and the frightened horse bolted back up the road. Hamíd helped him up as Castimir quickly dismounted.

  “You able to stand?” Castimir asked.

  “Looks like I’ll have to,” Emeth gritted, nodding at the men who now surrounded them. They unsheathed their swords.

  “Back to back!” Hamíd ordered. He looked at the men now surrounding them, features obscured by masks covering their noses and mouths.

  “Forty against three. Sounds fair,” Castimir said as the men drew their swords.

  “We don’t have to hold them off long. Your father should be here soon.” Hamíd resisted the urge to look up the road.

  “Let’s hope its sooner rather than later.” Emeth cursed as he struggled to keep his balance.

  The first wave attacked, and a few minutes later, they struggled back, leaving four dead and two wounded. Their leader hissed in frustration and ordered all the men forward. In the battle, the three companions were driven apart.

  Emeth was forced against a rock, battling furiously; his double swords glinting in the sunlight became stained with blood. A sabre cut across his hand, and he reflexively dropped the sword. His assailant swung out with his shield, sending it crashing against his arm. He cried out as his arm cracked against the force of the blow.

  Hamíd heard the cry and turned to see the bandit looming over Emeth. Drawing a knife, he threw it into the man’s back. Emeth huddled against the rock cradling his arm as Hamíd raced to help Castimir.

  Hamíd ran towards Castimir as he fought off a bandit. Hamíd dimly heard Emeth’s scream join his as a bandit plunged his sabre through Castimir. Hamíd kicked the bandit away as Castimir fell to the ground, attacking in a blind fury. But the bandit had more skill than his counterparts and was not hampered by anger. They fought fiercely until the bandit slipped a dagger past his defenses.

  Hamíd cried out again as the mail coat turned it to lodge into his side. In the extra second the bandit took trying to pull the blade free, Hamíd whipped his scimitar up into his chest. Hamíd staggered a step backward from the body before grabbing hold of the dagger and crumpling to the ground.

  Emeth ignored the fleeing survivors and crawled to where Castimir and Hamíd lay. Tears streaked his face as he knelt by Castimir’s body. Castimir opened his eyes and gave Emeth one last smile, then his breath grew ragged, and pain flashed across his face. Emeth grabbed his hand as he trembled and grew still.

  “No!” Emeth whispered. “No!”

  Then arms encircled him, and Lord Rishdah was kneeling by his son. Emeth dimly saw Nicar bending over Hamíd, and then all went black.

  Ahmed held Emeth as he lapsed into unconsciousness, staunching the blood still flowing from the arrow wound in Emeth’s leg. Azrahil made his way among the carnage, looking over the fifteen bodies that littered the road. Most were Calorins but a few were Argusian soldiers.

  “My lord, there’s one still alive over here!” he called.

  Lord Rishdah looked up from his place by Castimir’s body. He took off his cloak and gently spread it over his son. Azrahil grabbed hold of the wounded man and shoved him against a rock. He stripped the mask off the man’s face, revealing the features of a Calorin soldier.

  “Who are you?” Lord Rishdah asked.

  “My name is Raja. We were given orders to meet with several Argusians. We were to ambush and kill you.” The man looked to Lord Rishdah.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. But it isn’t going to stop with you. Your family will be hunted down and slain as well,” Raja said.

  “Who ordered the ambush?” Lord Rishdah demanded

  “None of us knew except the commander, and he’s dead now,” Raja answered.

  “Azrahil, make sure he doesn’t die yet. I might have a use for him,” Lord Rishdah commanded. Azrahil set two soldiers to guard the man as Lord Rishdah strode off to order a bier made for Castimir’s body.

  Nicar knelt by Hamíd. He was lying on his side, both hands clutched around the hilt of the dagger protruding from his side. He was still conscious, his face ashen white, and he trembled uncontrollably. Nicar moved him gently on to his back. Hamíd moaned, his eyes looking pleadingly at Nicar.

  “Hold on, lad!” Nicar whispered. “Jaffa, get over here!”

  The captain hurried over and knelt by them.

  “Hold him up and make sure he doesn’t move,” Nicar ordered.

  Jaffa propped Hamíd’s head and shoulders against his knees and wrapped his arms around Hamíd’s chest. Nicar moved Hamíd’s hands from the dagger, took hold of the handle, and pulled. Hamíd cried out as it moved a fraction. Nicar felt around the wound.

  “It hit a rib. Hold tight.” He pulled again.

  Jaffa held Hamíd down as he convulsed in pain. He gave another great cry as Nicar pulled once more and the blade came free. They pulled off the mail coat, and Nicar pushed up his shirt, exposing the wound. He frantically reached for needle and thread and began to stitch the wound closed.

  Jaffa lifted Hamíd slightly as Nicar wrapped a bandage around him. He had lost consciousness when Nicar pulled the dagger out. He lay limp in Jaffa’s arms as Nicar felt his pulse. It was weak but steady. Jaffa and another soldier carried Hamíd to the place Azrahil had chosen as a campsite and laid him on some blankets. They then spread Hamíd’s cloak over him and left.

  Nicar moved over to where Ahmed still sat holding Emeth. Emeth awoke as Nicar knelt by them. Nicar laid his hand on the broken arrow shaft sticking from his leg.

  “You ready?” Nicar asked. Emeth gave a weak nod. Ahmed winced as Emeth crushed his hand against the pain.

  “Sorry,” Emeth said as Nicar bandaged the wound.

  “That’s all right. I think,” Ahmed replied, holding him tighter as Nicar moved the arm Emeth had protectively braced against his chest. Emeth groaned around clenched teeth as Nicar pulled the vambrace and sleeve away to feel along his swollen arm, not finding a break.

  “I think you got lucky. Come on,” Nicar ordered.

  Ahmed helped Emeth stand and limp to the camp where Nicar fashioned a protective splint from pieces of wood. He placed Emeth’s arm in a sling made from a torn blanket as Lord Rishdah came up. Ahmed helped Emeth sit against a rock and handed him a waterskin, and left him alone with Lord Rishdah.

  Lord Rishdah sat beside him. Emeth couldn’t meet his gaze.

  “I’m sorry.” Tears filled his eyes again. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect him. I failed you.”

  “You did not kill him, Emeth. It was them. From the looks of things, you did all you could.” Lord Rishdah’s words weren’t empty of reassurance, and Emeth managed a miserable nod.

  “What happened?” Lord Rishdah asked.

  Emeth began to recount the events of the ambush.

  “There were too many of them, and we got separated. I went down halfway through, and Hamíd stopped me from getting killed. Then he fought over to where Castimir was. He got there just as…it happened. Then the bandit stabbed him, and the rest fled. I guess you know the rest,” he finished. He scrubbed a sleeve across his face and drew a shaky breath. “It’s my fault. If Hamíd hadn’t stopped to help me, Castimir would be alive right now.”

  Lord Rishdah laid a hand on his shoulder. “We will never know that, Emeth. But it seems as if you boys too
k care of almost half their force. Forty against three.” He shook his head.

  “Castimir said it was fair, sir.”

  Lord Rishdah returned his small smile. Then he rose and made his way from the campsite. Emeth cursed his carelessness as he watched Lord Rishdah halt where they had laid Castimir’s body, sinking to his knees beside the bier as his shoulders began to shake with quiet sobs.

  * * *

  Hamíd woke suddenly, his wound aching horribly. Azrahil came and knelt by him.

  “Are you all right, Hamíd?” Concern covered his features.

  “No,” Hamíd said miserably. “Captain…I failed. If only I had been faster, Castimir might be alive right now.”

  “Hamíd, telling yourself that won’t change anything. Years ago, I watched my brother and my friend die right in front of me. I relived it every day, thinking that if I had taken another path, I would have been there beside them, to save them. Some things are meant to happen, and you can’t stop them.”

  “But how do you live with it? How do I face Lord Rishdah or his family?”

  “He’ll understand.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Hamíd didn’t know if he could believe that.

  “Because I have failed him before.”

  Despite the captain’s somber words, Hamíd knew it would be a long time before he could forgive himself.

  Azrahil and the five other soldiers stood watch over the camp all night while Ahmed and Nicar took turns caring for Emeth and Hamíd. They slept fitfully, plagued by nightmares of the ambush. They stayed one more day at the camp and then moved on, leaving behind a burning pile of corpses. Hamíd rode Castimir’s stallion, staring ahead at nothing. Emeth rode beside him, both trying not to think about the body stretched on the bier behind them. It took another day to reach Lord Rishdah’s castle; they all dreaded what would happen once they arrived.

  The sun was low in the western sky as they rode slowly through the gates. Ismail came out to greet them followed by Lord Rishdah’s wife. The smile of welcome died on their lips as they took in the somber company. The soldiers came forward, carrying the bier. Ismail gently held his mother as she fell to her knees, mourning her lost son.

  Hamíd slid from the horse, leaning against the saddle, as he waited for the pain in his side to subside. He preferred the pain to the hollow feeling of loss and failure inside him. He pressed his hand against his side as he choked back new tears. He had grown close to Castimir. The young man had reminded him of Martin, and that thought brought home fresh sorrow.

  Nicar laid a hand on his arm, turning him towards the barracks. Hamíd allowed Nicar to help him across the courtyard. He glanced up only briefly to meet Ismail’s wide eyed gaze of disbelief as he searched for any sort of explanation. Hamíd’s step faltered, wishing he had anything to say, but Ismail staggered away into the castle.

  * * *

  They buried Castimir the next day. Hamíd couldn’t bring himself to watch, but Emeth stood at the barracks window. The company was dressed in black, and the guards stood at attention. As they lowered the body into the tomb, Emeth turned away. He limped over to his bed and lay down. Hamíd stared at the wall as if it would shut out the memories.

  “Do you think we could have done any more?” He turned enough to see Emeth. “I mean, do you think if we had tried harder, we could have saved him?”

  “Rishdah thinks we did all we could,” Emeth said by way of an answer.

  “I just keep seeing it, and know I’m too late. I don’t know how to live with that,” Hamíd said.

  “I don’t know either.” Emeth’s murmured words were small consolation. He adjusted his arm in the sling. “But for now, I’m wounded and need to get some proper rest.” He gave a perfect imitation of Nicar, drawing a faint smile from Hamíd.

  “You know, I could get used to lying in bed all day, being waited on.” Hamíd shifted to a more comfortable position.

  Emeth laughed. “They’d have to roll you off the bed you’d be so fat!”

  Hamíd’s chuckle quickly turned to a grimace. “Don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”

  Emeth waved a hand. “Silence now, I need my beauty sleep. Just wake me up when the food comes.”

  “Yes, master,” Hamíd replied with another laugh.

  * * *

  That night, Hamíd had a dream.

  He was standing in a strange forest. He sensed that the trees were very old and that he was not the first to ever pass through them. As he glanced around, he caught sight of someone coming towards him.

  It was Castimir.

  “Don’t worry about me, Hawk. My time had come,” he said. “Look after my brother for me and keep him safe. Don’t hesitate, and you can save him.”

  “What do you mean? What’s going to happen?” Hamíd demanded.

  “It is not for me to tell you. Keep him safe, please!”

  With that, Hamíd awoke. The faint rays of the rising sun edged through the windows. Troubled by the dream, he was unable to rest. He slowly sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, finding his boots and pulling them on with a wince. He took up his cloak and threw it about his shoulders and quietly made his way outside.

  He moved slowly across the empty courtyard and into the stables. They were quiet of all activity except for the muffled sounds of horses moving about their stalls. Hamíd leaned on a stall door and looked at its inhabitant.

  A large black stallion stood at the back; its white stockings and blaze glimmered dimly through the blackness. He sighed as he looked at Castimir’s horse. It looked lost without its former master. The stallion saw Hamíd and came slowly toward him, snorting softly as Hamíd reached out and began stroking its nose.

  “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Lord Rishdah came up quietly behind him.

  “Yes, sir. But I couldn’t sleep and wanted to get out for a minute,” Hamíd replied.

  “I understand.” Lord Rishdah’s eyes were dark circles in his face. “How are you feeling, Hamíd?”

  “Better, sir. Hopefully not much longer, and I’ll be good as new.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. You seem to be getting along with Zephyr.” Lord Rishdah leaned against the wall and scratched under the stallion’s chin.

  “Yes, sir. He doesn’t seem to mind the attention.” Hamíd rubbed the stallion’s broad forehead before speaking again and hoped he had the right words. “My lord, I never told you how sorry I am. I dishonored my oath to you.” He met Lord Rishdah’s steady gaze. “If there was any way I could, I would exchange places with him right now.”

  Lord Rishdah nodded his thanks, the raw sorrow over his son’s death showing in his eyes. They stood in silence a moment more then he spoke.

  “I want you to take Zephyr.”

  “What? Sir, I can’t!” Hamíd exclaimed.

  “Yes, you need a new horse, and he will serve you well. Take him, that’s an order,” Lord Rishdah said.

  “Well then, I’ll gladly take him, sir,” Hamíd replied.

  “Good man. Don’t stay out to much longer or Nicar will have your head.” Lord Rishdah clapped his shoulder with a smile.

  “Yes, sir.” Hamíd returned the smile.

  As Rishdah left the stables, Hamíd turned back to Zephyr. “I guess it is you and me now, boy.”

  Zephyr snorted and gently butted Hamíd with his nose. Hamíd gave him one last pat and made his way slowly back to the barracks. It was only after he lay back down on the bed that he realized how tired he was. The short walk had been harder than he thought it would be. Sighing, he resigned himself to another day of bed rest.

  Chapter 10

  “Well, it’s healed nicely. You’re now fit for duty. Congratulations. Maybe I’ll get some extra sleep now,” Nicar said a few weeks later as he finished picking the stitches out of Hamíd’s side. Hamíd laughed as he slipped his shirt back on and donned the rest of his uniform. Buckling on his weapons, he made his way to the stables to meet Lord Rishdah as ordered. On the way, he met Emeth, his arm freshly cleared
for light duty. He was buckling his swords into place across his shoulders as he fell into step beside Hamíd.

  “How’s your arm?” Hamíd asked.

  “A little stiff, but Azrahil will get it loose in a hurry. He said something about whipping me back into shape. Not sure what all that entails, but it can’t be good,” Emeth replied.

  “It’s not. He wore me out yesterday.”

  Emeth grimaced. “That’s not what I wanted to hear.” He turned into the training courtyard to meet Azrahil.

  Hamíd tacked up Zephyr as the stallion pranced in excitement.

  “Too much energy, just like me.” Hamíd led him out into the courtyard where Lord Rishdah waited.

  Hamíd mounted, and Zephyr strained forward eagerly. He pulled the stallion to a halt, focusing on keeping him still. Lord Rishdah watched carefully.

  “Ready? Now we’ll see what kind of a horseman you really are,” he said.

  Zephyr responded to Hamíd’s commands without hesitation and a surge of exhilaration ran through him.

  “Lead the way, sir.”

  * * *

  The remainder of the year passed quietly. The bandit they had captured could provide no more information for Lord Rishdah and the mastermind behind the ambush remained a mystery. No further attacks were made on Lord Rishdah or Ismail, but the Phoenix Guard remained watchful and prepared.

  There was hardly any more news of Aredor; no real resistance was left in that country. Hamíd tried to forget his home. While he still wished to go back, he knew that there was now nothing left for him to return to.

  * * *

  Lord Rishdah and his family rode out shortly after the New Year accompanied by the Guard and a company of soldiers. Ismail had become betrothed to the daughter of a Lord Jamal during the past summer with the wedding set to take place within the next week. Lord Jamal was a close friend of Lord Rishdah’s. His lands lay two days’ ride away to the southwest of Calorin, close to the Gelion border where the grass plains gave way to a small scrub forest.

  The journey passed uneventfully, but Hamíd could not shake a feeling of foreboding. He had dreamed of Castimir’s warning twice in the past few days. He was not the only who felt on edge; Azrahil also seemed nervous, especially as they entered the forest on their way to the castle that nestled in a small valley within its expanse.