Chapter 3

Jacob stood upon the main deck of the small ship as it cut through the water, its sails filled with a strong northeastern wind. His father had garnered passage upon the ship before his accident as it was passing through Penrith Harbor. The captain had promised to have the ship back in the harbor in exactly thirty days and, sure enough, The Sparrow sailed into port as the sun rose on the thirtieth day.

The captain was obviously accustomed to being cheated out of money. Though Jacob explained to the man that he was Adam Gerhard’s son and he was taking his place upon the ship, he had been weary. It had taken about an hour just to convince him that he was actually Jacob and the breakthrough had come when he had showed the good captain the coins he had with which to pay. The man had become quite cordial after that.

Jacob wasn’t traveling alone to Haden Hill and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. One of the men that were coming along was a man by the name of Gregory Hollowhead. Jacob had been sure he was joking when he gave his surname, but Gregory had said it with quite the straight face. The man claimed to have family in Haden Hill and he wished to go visit for the winter. There wasn’t often a ship running all the way from Penrith Harbor up the coast to the mouth of the Watchguard River so he had wished to take advantage of it.

He had been rather surprised when Noreen had told him that she would be coming along, as well. Apparently she didn’t think that he was capable of dressing himself for such regal gatherings and had insisted on coming along. Jacob had protested at first. She was the head of servants at the manor, how could she just up and leave like that? Besides, she was thirty plus years of age, she didn’t need to be riding across the countryside. Both of these issues, of course, only upset her and sent her into a fit. He had eventually shrugged and accepted it.

Finally, his father had arranged for Aidan Weaver to accompany Jacob, as well. He was perhaps forty years of age and was one of the few people in Penrith Harbor who had actually fought in battle. Supposedly he had been somewhat talented in it and Jacob’s father had placed him in command of the local garrison, if it was worthy of such a title. He was a stocky man with a stern face. He was surprisingly soft-spoken and, Jacob had learned, actually good company. He had a few stories to tell; though they were nothing like the ones he used to hear from Matan. He decided this was probably because Aidan’s were actually true.

At first he had also protested Aidan’s accompaniment, as well. It didn’t take long, however, to convince Jacob that he would be a welcome companion. While most of the fighting between the eastern and western lords was taking place north of the Fork, it was possible for a smaller force to cross the Watchguard and come upon Jacob, and Adam didn’t want his son walking across the plains with a servant, unprotected. Jacob considered using these theoretical attacks as another reason for why he shouldn’t have to depart, but he decided not to press his luck.

“Where do you think we are?” Jacob turned his head and looked at Aidan, who stood beside him.

“I saw the village of Sadnya a bit ago. That would put us at about a week’s ride from home. We’ll probably be at Watchguard around noon.”

“The sooner, the better. This crew,” Jacob said, looking around at the men moving about upon the deck,” they’re not like the men who sail the fishing boats back home. They seem…”

“Rough. These are merchant sailors. Where our little boats usually stick to shallow waters, these trade galleons put out into the blue. When usually we clear storms, these men go straight through them. It isn’t pleasant, but they can make good coin.”

The ship crested a large wave and crashed down from it, sending a thin sheet of water shooting up to the deck. While Aidan had the foresight to step back, Jacob did not. The water splashed all over him, soaking his boots, pants and shirt. With a curse, he started trying to shake the water off as a few of the crew started laughing.

“I’m going to go see to Lady Noreen. She’s not as seasick today, it would seem.”

With a strange grace, the man bowed, walked across the deck and disappeared below.

Resigned to the fact that he was going to be wet for the next few hours, he made his way up to the bow of the ship for a better view. As he looked down and watched the water part or looked over and saw nothing but water to his right, he found himself thinking about Reyna.

She had been on his mind a lot recently because he realized that this was the first time that they would be spending a significant amount of time apart for years. A week before his father’s accident, she had departed with her father to Constagra. Now, it would seem, they would be spending another few weeks apart. Reyna had always loved company, had always loved doing things. He hoped that she found something to occupy her time.

Technically speaking, they had met the day Reyna was born. Their mothers and fathers had been close to one another for many years. Jacob, who had been born a year earlier, had been present with his mother and father as Reyna was brought into the world. They had spent time with one another over the years and played with one another for hours on end. For as long as Jacob could remember, she had been a constant figure in his life. He soon found himself desiring and even requiring time to spend with her. This sense of dependency only grew stronger as the years went by and Jacob began learning the ins and outs of running a town. He would often rant long into the night as she sat there with a smile and encouraging words.

Unlike the large cities, there wasn’t much of a sense of urgency in finding a spouse in the smaller towns, such as Penrith Harbor, and so the idea of courting and marrying someone never really entered into Jacob’s mind. It wasn’t until he was seventeen that he recognized his feelings for what they were. He had vowed never to forget that night.

It had been the evening of that year’s Founding Day and Jacob and Reyna had spend most of the day together, dancing and singing and truly enjoying themselves. As the sun had fallen, Jacob had pulled Reyna away from the noise and bustle of the celebration and led her down to the harbor. There they walked out to the end of one of the piers and sat down, dangling their legs over the edge. They had sat, shoulder to shoulder, looking out across the dark ocean.

The sky had been clear and the ocean calm, so it seemed that the stars shined both in the heavens and in the ocean together. It had been a wondrous sight and he recalled Reyna saying as much. Perhaps it was the sound of the crashing waves or the beauty of the scene before them that stirred his spirit, but he suddenly turned and embraced her, her arms reacting and embracing him in return. He had kissed her, then, and the night seemed to last forever and come to an end within an instant. They had never made any declarations to anyone or even to each other, but all knew that they were in love. Two years later, Jacob had finally built up the nerve to ask her to marry him. He remembered the joy he had felt when she had said yes.

He took a deep breath and craned his head back, closing his eyes. He couldn’t quite explain what it felt like to be in love, but he knew that he had never felt anything like it before. With a sigh, however, he realized that such thoughts would only make the trip seem even longer.

They reached their destination a little before noon, just like Aidan had said they would. It had only taken three days with a strong wind and for that he was grateful. They were let off in the southern ruins of the Crystal Havens. Just as Penrith Harbor had controlled the coastal trade coming from Constagra, so too did Crystal Havens control the coastal trade coming from Eton, capital of the Old Empire. It had been a larger city, approximately equivalent in size to Haden Hill but where Penrith Harbor had survived the Wars of the Dragons, Crystal Havens had been completely destroyed by them. Nowadays it was nothing more than an outpost where ships could put in and refill their supplies. It was a permanent home to perhaps no more than one hundred people, yet there were usually at least five hundred there at any given time.

Most of the city had been either destroyed or torn down, but here and there the land surrounding the wide river mouth was marred by a large pile of white stone, a broken pillar or a toppled statue. Jacob was taken by the area and the history it represented, but Noreen quickly brought him back to reality.

“Pay the man so we can get moving, alright? We don’t have all day.”

Rolling his eyes, Jacob had quickly found the captain and paid their fare. The group then departed from the ship and made its way into the outpost. There was a rather large inn consisting of two wooden longhouses beside one another, apparently for housing multiple ships’ crews within. There was a market warehouse of sorts, though they catered to ships and not individuals. Lastly, there was a small stable which sold, purchased or held horses for those traveling inland from the sea or to the sea from inland. Jacob dreaded the price of the horses, as he expected they would be rather large. Surprisingly, Aidan spoke up and said he would handle the horse-bartering. Jacob handed him the money sack and within a half-hour, the man returned with six horses, which he claimed had been purchased for quite the reasonable price.

“What did you get six for? There are only four of us, remember? Who’s riding the other two?”

“The other two will be pack horses. They’ll carry our things while we ride the others. We’ll also rotate them while riding to keep all the horses somewhat fresh. You don’t want to lose a horse and be forced to walk.”

Jacob felt rather foolish after the explanation, but Aidan’s manner of calm explanation eased it a little. Gregory, however, had other things to say.

“Heh. You haven’t been on long ventures much, have you boy? I hope you don’t think we can just jump on these beasts and ride at full gallop all the way to Haden Hill. Horseflesh isn’t quite as magical as they make it sound in the stories. And ridin’ ‘em ain’t as fun as they make it sound, either. You’ll see what I mean.”

Noreen busied herself in the inn purchasing the various, more mundane things they were going to need, such as provisions. When she returned, and they busied themselves with readying their mounts, he was surprised by how much stuff traveling required. Unfortunately, he had sort of hoped that they would make quick time to Haden Hill and been done with it all. He hadn’t expected they’d need all of the various items they had brought or purchased.

Without fanfare or announcement, the small party started out of the Crystal Havens outpost north along the High Lord’s Road. This was not Jacob’s first time on a horse by any means, but it was definitely his longest consecutive time spent upon a horse. As the son of a lord, no matter how minor, it was only appropriate that he had learned to ride. He and Reyna had ridden with one another through the outlying fields of their home or with their parents as the traveled to nearby estates for visits. However, those were always leisurely trips where the purpose was to enjoy yourself as much as it was to actually get somewhere.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case now. Aidan, who had unofficially taken leadership of their little party, set a demanding, though not terribly difficult, pace. Jacob had wanted to stay at the outpost for the night, but they had set out instead. Aidan said that they needed to be at Highwood by the afternoon of the second day in order to make it for the wedding in time. Jacob considered telling Aidan that it wasn’t extremely important that he actually got there at all, but he decided that it wouldn’t go well with Noreen. By the evening of the first day, however, Jacob simply wanted to know if Aidan knew this wasn’t a military march. When he asked him, the man laughed.

“There’s nothing wrong with trying to be on time, my lord. Besides, I don’t like being in this open country. It just doesn’t feel safe.” Jacob had to agree.

The spent the remainder of the day in relative silence, though Noreen or Gregory occasionally spoke to point out various birds, animals or plants they had never seen before. Jacob found surprising how often they were surprised; after all, they weren’t that far from home. He had to admit, however, that the general area was more heavily wooded than home. At some points along the trip, the trees grew right up to the road, which made him feel rather uncomfortable. He was used to the rolling plains of the southlands and found himself missing them.

Aidan was rather quiet during the entire trip. For a time, Jacob didn’t really notice, but eventually he asked the man about it.

“I’ve fought in these woods. It was during the winter of Lord Alderson’s Madness, I’m sure you’ve learned of it.”

Of course Jacob had heard and learned of Lord Alderson’s Madness. Around the time of his birth, an upstart lord east of the Watchguard had decided that he was the descendant of the old Dragon Lords – a position commonly referred to as a dragon descendant – and that it was his destiny to reunite the world into a new empire. His actual lineage was questionable at best, but few willingly admitted to being related to the Dragon Lords so most took it to be the truth. Alderson had marshaled his forces, which had grown surprisingly large in number, and marched across the river into the Kyrithian territory.

The fighting had raged for an entire year, for almost all of the other lords had been caught completely unprepared. About a moth before the end of the conflict, Alderson had launched a suicidal charge down the coast which had come within a few miles of Penrith Harbor before it could be stopped. Following The Madness, a loose confederation of lords had been established to help prevent that sort of thing from happening again. So in truth, Alderson’s bid for consolidation had actually resulted in some, though not quite in the way he had anticipated.

“What was the combat like? It sounds so…exciting and noble.” Jacob had wanted to say “fun” but knew that he shouldn’t. He had read enough history to know that wasn’t the case.

“Matan’s been filling your head with his stories, I see. There’s nothing exciting in taking a man’s life. There’s nothing noble about being cover in dirt and blood. You see a lot of courage, but also a lot of foolishness. What’s combat like? During the Madness I spent a lot of time walking through mud and snow from one town to the next. That’s what most of the soldiers during a war do the most. Actual combat it terrifying. It’s fast, it’s loud and it’s hot, no matter what time of year it is. Though men can bring about great things, always remember that men are also the ones who bring about war.” He grew silent, then, as they continued forward.

Jacob realized he had never heard Aidan say that much in one sitting. He looked to the others to see their responses. Noreen looked like she was going to cry, which confused him. Gregory, however, raised his eyebrows and mouthed, “Whoa.” Jacob got the impression that there was more to Aidan’s story than he had ever heard, but he didn’t want to upset Aidan further. They continued to ride on in silence.

As they came around a bend in the road, they saw in the distance a building standing a ways in the trees and Noreen expressed hopes that they would be able to stop and rest for the night. As they neared the structure, however, they realized that the building hadn’t been used in many years. The few windows to be seen were missing their frames and the roof was completely gone. The stone walls still remained, however; a skeleton of what had once been there.

“The High Lord’s Road used to have these way-houses every ten miles or so during the Old Empire,” Aidan said. “Most were made from wood, though. We must be coming up to an old crossroads of some kind.”

When Jacob expressed his confusion, Gregory responded. “The Dragon Lords had these things built along their roads for travelers to rest in. They weren't run by anyone and were free to use. There was a small group of folk that traveled the roads constantly maintaining the houses. At each crossroads a larger way-house was built from stone to hold more folk.”

Noreen decided to chime in. “Yeah and they were safe from brigands, too, because of the Dragon Lords’ Protection. You could come and go as you pleased. The roads were more populated back then, after all.”

Jacob listened to each and his face grew red as he realized he was the only person who didn’t know about the way-houses. It wasn’t his fault the history books didn’t mention it all that much. Besides, he understood why Aidan and Gregory would know about them for they had traveled about on these roads before. Why Noreen knew was a mystery, however, and that bothered him.

Upon inspection, the roadhouse was actually in pretty good order considering the two hundred odd years it had sat there. It was obvious that someone had recently tried to fix the place us, as must of the grown within had been cleared away and a hole in the northern wall had been repaired. It was two stories tall and it was found that the first floor was almost completely protected from rain by the second floor. They decided that it would make as good a spot to rest for the night as any, so they brought their horses inside and set up their little camp.

Noreen insisted in setting the fire in the fireplace, regardless of the fact that the stack had toppled away years ago. They ate a modest meal of beef stew and hard bread and washed it down with water and wine. After the meal, Gregory erected a quick tying post for the horses and fed and brushed them while Noreen took her time cleaning up. Why she made such a fit about cleaning Jacob didn’t understand, considering the place was abandoned anyway but he didn’t say anything. He looked around for Aidan, who had been looking over their supplies, and didn’t see him. He heard movement, above, however, and started up the stone stairs to the second floor.

It was like a different world, compared to the floor below. Where most of the weeds and bushes had been cleared below, the top floor had obviously been neglected. Thick, woody vines grew over the stone yellow flowers poked out from cracks in the walls. The northern wall and the roof were missing, but the other three walls stood in their entirety, creating an interesting feeling of freedom and confinement at the same time. Jacob spotted Aidan standing near the fallen wall and walked over to him. He realized that he was growing rather fond of the man.

“So, how long do you think this will take?”

“Noble wedding celebrations can last a while. It’ll be a few weeks before we find ourselves in Crystal Havens again.”

The man seemed distracted, staring off over the trees. Jacob followed his line of sight. At first he didn’t see anything. Finally he noticed it, however. A faint trail of black smoke rose in the distance up into the sky where the wind pushed it away.

“What is that? Something burning?” Jacob felt foolish after asking the question; obviously something was burning.

“I’m not sure. It’s obviously far away, though. Probably nothing to worry about.” Despite his words, Aidan continued to look off in the same direction.

With a sigh, Jacob turned and went back downstairs. He thought about Aidan and decided that he was obviously uncomfortable here. He had fought battles here, after all. His distant attitude surely had something to do with that. With nothing else to engage his time in, Jacob soon found himself drifting off to sleep.

The next day the group got a late start. First off, Jacob had proved difficult to wake. When he had finally left his bed roll, he found his legs and back quite stiff and painful. As he took a few steps forward, he noticed that Noreen was obviously feeling the same. He shook his head and glanced at the horses. They made things easier, but you definitely paid for it. He also learned that one of the horses had decided to leave during the night, as it hadn’t been properly tied down. Gregory returned with it, saying he had found it at a nearby stream, but it had taken him almost an hour.

By the time they finally got underway, the sun way almost half way toward noon. Noreen was silent for the most part, stoically dealing with her aches. Jacob moaned and complained for a while until he realized that neither Aidan nor Gregory was complaining in the least. He didn’t want to sound like a child and embarrass himself in front of the men so he took the lead from Noreen and bit his lip and dealt with it.

It was a few hours until nightfall before the small party came over a small hill and got their first glimpse of the village of Highwood. It filled Jacob with terror.

The town had quite obviously been picturesque once. There was a granite pool that stood in the middle of town and the roads were paved with similar stone. Most of the houses appeared to be made of wood and brick with slate roofs. The High Lord’s Road ran through the city and torches ran out from the city along the road to guide the way in the night. It seemed to have been a prosperous, if small, community; until someone had put it to the torch.

Almost every building seemed to have been either partially or totally burned to the ground, with burned timbers and shattered shingles littering the streets. The air seemed thick with ash and it began to settle upon the heads and shoulders of the party as they came closer. It appeared as though some terrible accident had fallen upon the city. It was only as they entered the city that they began to truly understand what had happened.

“‘Mighty Father, Gentle Mother, be with us I pray…’” Noreen was standing by her horse, now, not trusting herself to stay mounted but instead using it for support. He stood perfectly still, her eyes fixed on the sky.

“This is…surprising. I didn’t think the war was down here yet,” Gregory said. He bent over and picked up a club banned in copper. It had been slightly scarred by fire but was otherwise unharmed. “It doesn’t look like they put up much of a fight.”

“No it doesn’t. And these are sword wounds for the most part. This was a professional group.” Aidan was also walking through the streets, occasionally bending over a body to survey the damage. He stopped at a crossroads and looked down each. The fires had mostly burnt themselves out, through a few buildings to the west were still smoldering. “This is the definitely where the smoke I saw was coming from.”

Jacob stood back near Noreen, holding the reigns to the other three horses. His mind was completely blank as his eyes moved over the town. He had never seen so much death and destruction in one place before. Naturally, he had seen a few of the dead in his past, attending their funerals as they were given to the sea. He had never, however, seen a murdered body lying face down in the middle of the road beside a torched and collapsed home. It was too much for his mind to take in.

Suddenly Jacob heard a horse whinny somewhere close behind him and he whirled around, his heart racing. What he saw surprised him. There were perhaps fifty people, men, women and children, most on foot, standing upon the road a ways back. They looked exhausted; their clothes were torn and burnt. He quickly turned around and called for Aidan.

It turned out that they were the survivors of the attack, having run when the battle began. Some looked ashamed, but most looked shocked. Men in armor, they said, had suddenly poured out of the woods with torches and swords gleaming. They had swept through the town killing indiscriminately. None had offered any explanation and none wished to stop and talk; they simply killed. It took a few moments before a general panic swept through the village and people began to run. The few mounted troops rode down a few, but they seemed bored with the idea of chasing peasants through the woods. Those who had fled had somehow managed to gather themselves, waited a day and then decided to return.

The party spent an extra day in Highwood with Aidan, Gregory and Jacob helping to bury the dead and clear the roads. Though the townsfolk had told them they could go on their way, the party had felt obligated to stay and lend some aid. Noreen aided the women and children by going through the burnt houses to find anything salvageable. It was late into the afternoon before the party left Highwood. Though they were asked to stay, Jacob didn’t want to be in the village any longer than he had to be. The people gave their thanks and pleaded for them to tell the lords of Haden Hill about their home.

With somber spirits, Jacob and the others continued north.

Chapter 2

Jacob Gerhard woke to a pounding noise upon his door. He leaned up upon his elbows and glanced at the door, waiting for the fog of sleep to pass. Once he realized what the irritating sound was, he promptly returned his head to his pillow and pulled his blanket up over his head. He wasn’t in the mood to wake up just yet. He thought that he had won when the knocking had stopped, but a moment later he heard the door slam open and someone walk into the room.

“You think you’re fooling me? Get out of that bed or I’ll beat you out of it.” As she spoke, the serving woman walked over to the windows and threw the curtains covering them back. Light flooded into the room and Jacob, with a sigh, pulled the blanket down from his face.

“Noreen, is that necessary? I’m sort of tired. And why are you always so loud?”

The woman seemed unaffected by his words. “There are a lot of preparations to be done today if you’re to leave on time tomorrow. Foremost, we’ll need to get you and your clothes clean. Can’t have you traveling in dirty clothes.”

Jacob rolled his eyes and threw his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up once more. He yawned and tried to rub some of the sleep from his eyes as he adjusted to the brightness of the room. By the looks of it, it was midmorning. He was curious as to how he had been able to sleep as long as he had, considering the activities of the coming days. His father had recently been having him awoken at sunrise so that he could aid in the courtly appearances of the family.

Jacob’s father, Adam Gerhard, was the current lord of Penrith Harbor, a small fishing community on the coastal border of the Kyrithian Province. In the times before the Old Empire, when Kyrithia had been a great kingdom, Penrith Harbor was a large trade bastion. It had single-handedly controlled all trade coming from the capital of Constagra to the shore, as well as the trade running up and down the coast, and had made a good profit doing so. It was also an area renowned for its expertise in boat crafting, with some of the fastest and most prized ships coming directly from the Harbor.

The golden age of Penrith Harbor, however, seemed to have come to an end shortly before the Wars of the Dragons. The city had mainly been torn down, the stone and lumber recycled into ships or sold to other villages. It was now no more than a small town with approximately two thousand inhabitants whose sole commodity was fish. The occasional ship was built, but it was usually nothing more than a longboat for some local lord who liked to play on the river. Gone were the massive galleons with their multiple sails waving in the wind or the shield-hulled war galleys with their bronze-plated prows. Penrith Harbor’s fleet of fishing boats was all that remained.

Jacob stood and moved over to a nearby washing dish, splashing some water onto his long face and scruffy black hair as Noreen left the room with a large pile of clothes in her arms. She was always buzzing around making noise, it seemed to him, but he liked her all the same. Stretching his arms, he made his way over to the clothes cabinet and started going through it, trying to select something moderately appropriate for the occasion, for it was Penrith Harbor’s Founding Day.

Normally, Jacob would have found a plausible excuse and disappeared for the day. He didn’t have any patience for these kinds of events. Unfortunately, a few weeks previous, Jacob’s father Adam had sustained several wounds when his fishing boat – which he liked to travel on from time to time – was struck by a massive storm and completely destroyed. He had received a large gash across his left thigh, as well as numerous smaller wounds, but it was his leg that worried the doctors. After the ship had been destroyed, it had taken almost a day before Adam was found lying upon the beach, blood pouring from his wound. In that time, they said, it had grown gangrenous and threatened his life. They had completely removed the leg and had showed hope that he would have a full recovery. Last week, however, his fever had returned and the doctors couldn’t explain why. So it was that with a heavy heart, Jacob was forced into filling in for his father.

He was a tall individual and the serving folk within the manor always bemoaned the fact, for his clothes always required extra fitting. He didn’t see why it was his fault that he pants needed to be a little longer than normal, but he always seemed to get the blame. He managed, however, to find an ensemble that he believed fit well and looked good. It consisted of plain brown leather pants, a simple white cotton shirt and a light, knee-length forest green jacket. He threw on his old boots, slightly covered in mud, without thinking and walked toward the door.

He inhaled deeply as he exited the manor’s front door. Before him was the commons area and the townsfolk had been busy setting up for the celebration. In the far corner he spied a bright red, open-sided tent which hadn’t been there the day before. It was filled with long tables, stools and a bustle of people as they moved about to set the table for the Great Luncheon. The people seemed to be everywhere, some old and some young, but all as happy as could be. Jacob spied old Matan Fishbane, the ancient fisherman turned storyteller, weaving a tale for a group of young children. With a smile, Jacob moved closer to hear that it was about.

“…but they’d have none of it. A great huntin’ party formed up and moved through the high mountains, searchin’ for the lost men. They were in those mountains for over a year ‘fore they finally found it; or what was left. The men had been slashed and gashed, split, broken and eaten in two!” The old man threw his hands high in the air for dramatic effect, causing the children to scream. “Search for the killer they did, and found it they did. It was a large lizard, bigger than your father’s fishin’ boats it was and its anger was something terrible. It attacked the men and started once more its butcher’s work. But ‘fore it could eat ‘em all, Aidan Dragonbane buried his axe into its mighty neck and took its head clean off! The blood began to-”

“That’s more than enough, you old coot,” a man suddenly said, appearing over Matan’s shoulder. “Pod, Simon, let’s go. The rest of you kid run ‘long now. The story’s over.” With sighs of sadness the children slowly dispersed and Jacob was left along with the storyteller.

“You’re too old to be listenin’ to old Matan’s stories, boy. You’re what, goin’ on twenty one?” He began to struggle to his feet and Jacob helped him up as he spoke.

“Only twenty, Fishbane. What’re you doing telling those kids that story anyhow? You know you get yourself into trouble every time you start telling your dragon stories.”

“Oh, aye. But they’re good stories; you’ll ‘mit. You’ve heard ‘em often enough if memory serves.” He slapped Jacob on the back and looked about at the crowd that was starting to gather around the tables. “They’re too soft, boy. They may not like the fact that dragons once ate us men but they need to learn it was true. Their kids’ll grow up soft otherwise; a bunch o’ sissies. Well, I s’pose I should go find myself a seat. Looks like they’ll be bringin’ me food any time. G’bye boy.”

Jacob simply shook his head and chuckled as the old man walked off. He had wasted many days simply listening to and dreaming about Matan’s stories and wondering what it was like to live back in what he called “the glory days.” He had tried to find out a few times just how old Matan really was, but nobody seemed to know. The old man claimed to be as old as the dragons and as old as the sea and everyone simply seemed to accept that as the truth. As Jacob watched him walk over to the table he couldn’t help but notice how spry his motions were and how young he looked from behind. Old Matan would never die, Jacob decided.

He took another look around the green – seeing young men around his age helping erect another tent opposite the first and younger boys and girls playing with hoops and dolls – and glanced up at the manor’s top floor window. His father was up there and Jacob knew that he had moved his bed over to it so that he could watch the festivities. He loved the Founding Day celebrations so much Jacob was trying to complain as little as possible. He waved up to the window, hoping that his father saw him doing his duty.

He slowly turned and made his way toward the large tent. The sun had reached its zenith and Jacob was regretting wearing his coat as sweat began to form upon his brow. The majority of the members of the town was starting to gather under the tent and would soon require some sort of speak to start the festivities. Jacob had prepared a short, modest speak which recalled the glory days and spoke of a bright future for the little town. It was similar to the one his father always said, just slightly less eloquent. He was sure it would do the job well enough. Rather, he hoped it would do the job. He had found that, at times, these small-town folk liked things done a certain way; which made him slightly uneasy about the whole thing. With a deep breath, he made his way to the north end of the tent where a small dais had been raised. He waited for a few moments as the crowd noticed him and quieted down before starting his speech as a strange sense of nervousness settled upon him.

Without realizing it, the speech came to an end and the lunch feast began. It was as if time had simply skipped forward a bit, allowing him to skip his speech. As he stepped down from the dais, a few people slapped him on the back and told him he needed to calm down. Jacob wasn’t prone to bouts of nervousness and he mentally chided himself for it. What did you have to be embarrassed about in front of these people, whom he had known his entire life? With a shake of the head, he went to find his seat and enjoy some good food.

“You know, boy, I couldn’t hear your speech as you weren’t talkin’ loud enough.” Matan had decided that he was going to sit with Jacob in order to educate him in the ways of speech-giving. “The first thing you need to remember is that us old folk can’t hear so good. It’s better to shout than to sound like a little girl. Though I did see you’re face turn a pretty shade of pink. Don’t know why you were doin’ that, you’re smarter than most of these folks here.”

Jacob tried to ignore the old man as much as possible, mainly by distracting himself with large quantities of food and drink. Everyone else had seemed to either forget or accept it, yet Matan kept belaboring the fact. Finally, at his wit’s end, he quickly turned and stared at him. “Fishbane, will you just shut up?”

A wide smile spread across the man’s face and he started laughing. He slapped Jacob on the shoulder and said, “That’s what I’ve been waitin’ for. You’re soundin’ more like a man than a boy.” With what appeared to be an approving nod, Matan stood and departed, off to find someone else to heckle, Jacob was sure.

The rest of the day was rather long and arduous, as far as Jacob was concerned. He participated in the annual stone-throwing contest and watched as the town’s ladies displayed their new dresses. He helped judge the pie- and ham-eating contests, both of which made his stomach a little queasy. It seemed like the day was almost over before he finally found Kurt and Jesse.

“Some party you’re having here,” Jesse said as Jacob approached.

“Was the dress showing your idea, Gerhard?” Kurt asked in turn. “A grand idea, that. I saw quite a few dresses I’d live to see a bit closer up.”

Jesse gasped and dramatically turned to Kurt. “You, sir, are a pig. Besides, those girls wouldn’t have any time for you; they’d be too busy with me.”

“Right, they’d be busy teaching you how to knit and do up your hair.” Jesse lunged at Kurt, trying to grab him by the collar, but he had seen it coming. Jesse’s mother was a seamstress whose husband had died shortly after Jesse’s birth in a fishing accident – one of the most common causes of death in Penrith Harbor. Because of this, his mother had refused to allow him anywhere near the sea and, instead, had educated him in the way of needle and cloth. While all in the town admitted that he was quite skilled, this didn’t protect him from the frequent jibes from his other male friends.

While Jacob and Jesse were of the same age, Kurt was two years older. Unlike his two friends, however, his life was playing out in such a way as to be wholly unremarkable. Like the many others, Kurt had taken to the sea and, more specifically, to a fishing boat at an early age and had never looked back. He hadn’t married yet, but lived together in a small cottage surrounded by identical small cottages down near the harbor. He was perfectly fine with that, however, as he considered it his lot in life.

“Well I hope you liked it, anyway,” Jacob said. “I think the ladies wish to have another one this evening. I think I heard something about winter dresses this time.” The two friends moaned in unison.

“Winter dresses? They might as well wrap themselves in wool from head to toe for all that you can see.”

“Yeah. It just isn’t fair to us guys, you know? It’s inhuman or something.”

Jacob just chuckled at their antics and shook his head. He realized that the three of them still acted like children sometimes. For this he was very glad. Jesse saw him shaking his head, however, and slapped Kurt on the shoulder.

“Look at our lordling here, Kurt. He’s too high and noble to have such impure thoughts.” He cocked his head to the left and the pitch of his voice rose considerably. “’Leave such things to the rabble, says I. Let the peasants have their fun for my heart belongs to some courtly love.’”

Kurt took up the charade and began to prance in circles around Jacob, waving his hands at his sides. “However does he put up with lowborn such as us, Jess?”

As Kurt came around in front of him once more, Jacob gave him a good push, causing him to go sprawling across the ground. Jesse simply started laughing. “Just consider yourself honored to have known me, serf. Woe, if only there were more castles and real nobility in these parts…but I suppose you two with have to do.” With a smile, he nodded over toward the tent, still bustling with people. “Now how about we go get ourselves a drink?”

The two men seemed well in favor of that.

The sun was setting below the rolling western plains when the three decided they had had enough to drink. Kurt had already found it necessary to fall asleep with his face upon the table, while Jacob and Jesse had been more conservative in their intake.

“This did turn out to be a good day, though, all jokes aside,” Jesse said after an extended silence. Jacob’s eyes were rolling over the now darkening commons. Someone had started a large bonfire and other torches were being lit. The celebrations would most likely last long into the night if past events were any indication.

“Yeah, it wasn’t too bad. It’s a shame dad didn’t get to come down.”

“I’m sure he watched, though, knowin’ him. He will get better, you know. He’ll be down here next year and having all the more fun to compensate for missing this one.”

“You’re probably right. It’s just…I shouldn’t have to leave. Not now when he needs me.” He took a drink as his mind started traveling a more serious path. Jesse was always a good person to talk to, to confide in and it had always come easily to him.

“He’s sending you because you need to go. You know him better than me, but I know that he’s a smart man and he usually knows what needs doing. If you need to go to that wedding, then you should go. And like I said, he’ll be better in no time, anyway.”

“But why should I have to go? I don’t even know this Adia Gerhard. Besides, Reyna doesn’t even know I’m leaving and she won’t be back for another week. I can just see it now. ‘Sorry, miss, your betrothed left a few days ago without telling you about it. He sends his regrets.’ That will go over well.”

“Reyna’s as understanding as your father is sensible. She’ll understand. Besides, you’ll get to look forward to your return celebration.” Jesse winked at that and raised his glass.

“Yes, well…” He stood and past the tent and to the sky. There wasn’t a cloud to be seen, allowing the stars to twinkle beautifully. He smiled. “I should probably be heading in; they’ll want to ship me off as soon as possible. You take care of yourself, alright?”

Jesse nodded his head solemnly. “We’ll miss you around here but you’ll be back soon enough. Take care, yourself.” He lifted his glass in salute once more.

Jacob sat his half-empty mug and started making his way back across the green toward the house. His eyes widened in recollection and he looked back, pointing at Kurt. “And don’t forget to tell that lump there that I told him to get a real job.” We a smile from Jesse, Jacob returned home.

The interior of the manor verged on silence when compared to the festivities outside. Jacob’s feet seemed to drag behind him as he walked and he started to feel how tired he truly was. He made his way past the second floor, however, and up to the fourth where his father was abed. He tapped on the door lightly, not wishing to wake his father. He heard a small voice bid him entrance, though, so he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The sight and smell of the room seemed completely foreign to Jacob every time he entered, so different was the room’s current usage from its regular one. Where normally his father would sit for hours within the large red lacquered armchair by the window reading one of the many books that lined the walls, there was now a large wooden bed. All other furniture had been removed, except for the massive bookshelves, and replaced by various tables which held the doctor’s supplies. The smells of a thousand different herbs assailed him from the preparation table, which had a small stack of mortars and pestles upon its corner. A small end table stood near at his father’s side, from which various trails of smoke slithered their way into the air. The incense, Jacob thought, was the most ridiculous of all the doctor’s ideas, for he had never seen someone smell a flower and a cut suddenly heal, but he tried to keep quiet. He wasn’t a doctor, after all.

The worst sight of all, however, was his father himself. He was lying in bed with the sheets pulled up to his waist. The sheet outlined a thin, lanky body which was missing a leg; something that Adam Gerhard thought on constantly. He had lost considerable weight in the past week and his skin was dreadfully pail. His eyes, which he usually held closed, were a brilliant emerald and one of the last bastions of vitality in the poor man’s face. Jacob’s eyes were practically identical and, for some reason he couldn’t explain, he was glad to see that they hadn’t begun to fade. Matan had always said that the eyes were the gateway into the soul and if they begin to fade, death follows near. It was an uncomfortable thought and Jacob dismissed it as quickly as he could as he walked over to his father’s bedside.

“How was the celebration?” His voice, like his eyes, remained strong and actually seemed a bit odd coming from a man so visibly weak.

“It went well. The speech was definitely not the high point, though.”

“Well I would hope not. I can’t have you outclassing me, after all. Then they wouldn’t even need me anymore,” Adam said with a weak chuckle.

“Yeah, well I don’t think you have anything to dread. They weren’t chanting my name after I was done if that’s what you’ve been worrying about.”

“Bah. These town folk think the world of you. Just today I had a handful of visitors telling me what a good man you’re growing up to be. I hope you don’t mind if I took some of the credit for that. I think they’re going to miss you around while you’re gone.”

“And for the hundredth time, I’m telling you that I don’t want to go to the thing. It’s all the way up in Haden Hill, there’s no way anyone would expect us to attend.”

“Heh, my cousin would. It’s his girl being married, after all, and to a Faryden!”

“I don’t see what’s so great about these Farydens, anyway. So their family ruled Kyrithia before the Old Empire. So what? There hasn’t even been a throne to sit on for hundreds of years, you taught me the histories yourself. They hold prominence in Constagra and Haden Hill, that’s it.”

“And Constagra is still one of the largest cities in the West, controlling a good portion of the trade. A family doesn’t have to hold lordship to control a city. The Faryden family has the weight and history of their name to throw around. There are other reasons to marry beside love.”

“Well let’s hope so because I don’t know how pleased Reyna is going to be after this little trip of mine.”

“Don’t try to pull that on me, boy. I love that girl like a daughter and well I should, I’ve known her since she was born. You know that she’d want you to go, so don’t try to guilt me into anything.”

Jacob gave an audible sigh and rubbed his face with both hands. “I just don’t want to go, that’s all. Believe it or not, I sort of like it here.”

A little color was returning to Adam’s face, but it looked to be from anger and not health. “You don’t want to go? You don’t want to go? Do you think-”

Jacob jointed in and they finished the sentence together. “Do you think your grandfather wanted to leave his family and take lordship of this town?”

They stood there glaring at each other for a moment. Jacob’s grandfather, for whom he was named, had been a minor lord of some minor city further up the river. So his father told him, when he got word that Penrith Harbor was in turmoil after their lord died without an heir, he had left his family to manage the city while he traveled south to help the ailing town. It was one of Adam’s favorite stories of his father and he often used it to convince Jacob to do something.

“If it was simply a matter of you going or not because based on your preference, then you could stay. But it is not. You are the eldest son of a branch of the Gerhard family; a family who is being connected with the old, powerful House Faryden. It is the duty of your station and you will be attending the wedding, end of discussion.”

Jacob was surprised by the energy his father had summoned forth to give that speech. He had almost been able to forget he was ill for a few moments. Regardless of his physical state, however, Jacob managed very well to be angry. He stood there a moment, just looking at his father before sticking out his lower jaw and nodding slightly.

“Very well. Good night, father.” He promptly turned and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him as he did so.

As Jacob threw off his shirt and eased himself down into his bed, the pale blue light of the moon streamed in from his still-open window. He rolled over, putting his back to the light as he thought about the conversation he had just had. He played it through his head a dozen times, thinking of something he should have said or something he should have refrained from saying there.

Fatigue began to win the battle, however, and Jacob resigned himself to his fate. Not bothering to pull the blanket up over him, he simply spread his arms and legs and let sleep take him.

He was going to need his rest, after all. It was going to be a long trip.

Chapter 1

The sun was slowly rising over the high mountain peaks to the east, finally piercing the gloom that had been hanging over the area for the past three days. The rolling hills were strewn with boulders and the majority of the short grass still retained its summer green. The river began to shimmer as the sun fell upon it, snaking its way from north to south. It was running a little low this year, which confused many for there had been substantial rains to the north which had seemed to last forever. A steady, calm wind blew in from the east as if to meet the rising sun, sending ripples across the water and stirring the dust within the streets of the ancient city of Haean.

It was said that Haean was the oldest city on the entire continent, having been founded thousands of years before by Lord Tysus Haea, the great engineer and philosopher whom many Haean natives still praised. It was he who had set the four major roads running north and south, east and west from the great keep which stood at the heart of the metropolis. His son, Tysus II, had been responsible for the great feat of surrounding the entire city with a massive curtain wall, which was unparalleled in magnitude and scope at the time. Over time, the populace had grown larger and the town had spread beyond the Old Wall and it slowly became nothing more than another point of interest and pride for the people of the sprawling city.

Through thousands of years, countless wars, famines, plagues and even the Great War and the Wars of the Dragons, the grand old city had survived. Though the surrounding area was rocky, the people were prosperous farmers and the nearby mountains were full of natural resources, allowing trade along the Serpent’s River and multiple land routes to flourish. Its people were intelligent and hardworking, some having been at their craft for many generations. It was for these reasons and more that Aton Paredes, Great Lord of the East, had chosen to make it his home.

The man stood atop the tallest tower of the Haean Keep, staring off into the rising sun. He was a tall, handsome man with short, auburn hair that laid about his head in small curls and large eyes the color of olives. He had a wide forehead and a narrow jaw, with a thin-lipped mouth that always seemed to be a moment away from smiling. He was thin with lanky arms and legs that belied their true strength, which were currently covered in supple brown leather. His pants disappeared just below the knee into his high boots and his sleeves were pulled up past his elbows so that his skin could feel the morning chill. With a resounding sigh, he turned away from the sun and took a sip of wine from the ornate silver goblet in his hand.

“Do you see, my lords, the beauty of my empire? Look around you, please. This city is the embodiment of my plans for the world!” He took another drink, this one slightly deeper than the one before. He waved his hands about in a grand sweeping gesture and said, “Haean has always been and will always be a place of greatness. It is a doorway into the future if we but take the time to see. All within the world will one day live in such splendor, you mark my words, gentlemen. Tell me, Matthias, how go our campaigns in the west?”

Matthias was a man seemingly out of place in the world. Where the other three men upon the tower were tall and regal; he was short and modestly dressed. A mild scowl settled upon his face as Aton spoke and only deepened when asked to report.

“The men across the Watchguard are more resilient than you had hoped, my lord. New casualty reports return every day and the few victories we can claim are in the field and lack substance. I fear that-”

“Once we have consolidated the East, we will be able to put more force onto the westerners. The southern territories should bow the knee by next year’s thaw and we will be able to marshal our entire force in the West.”

“With due respect, my lord, why do we continue the fight if you do not expect victory? We are only wasting men.”

Aton waved a hand as if Matthias’s questions were nonsense. “We fight them to bloody them. Half of them have fallen back to their ancient pagan ways and the others are stubborn beyond reason. They have too much pride in their royal families and great heroes. And more importantly, Matthias, I want them to be aware of me. Let them see that I can send wave after wave of spear and sword into them without blinking. It will weaken their resolve.”

Matthias sighed and looked to the two men standing beside him for support. To his left was Tysus Rosce, who had recently held the lordship of Postram before swearing fealty to Aton. The man was as cold as stone and didn’t say a word unless commanded to, giving him an air of pretentiousness. To his right was another Tysus, this one of the Wachiv family, who had also held a lordship somewhere in the south, the name of which Matthias had forgotten. If Rosce seemed to be pretentious, there was no mistaking it with Wachiv. His head was constantly held high, a sneer fixed in place for any who got in his way. Both, for some reason Matthias hadn’t completely come to understand, were completely loyal to Aton. With a sigh, he realized that he would find no support from them.

He took a moment to compose his thoughts before he responded, hiding the action by adjusting his soft green tunic. Though Matthias felt out of place, he had also been a lord; one of higher rank than any other upon the tower, truth be told. Until recently, he had held court over the city of Qam, a magnificent city second only to Haean in size and population. Unlike the other two lords, however, Matthias had not chosen to bend knee to the Paredes Army. His city had been locked in a brutal siege that had lasted through the winter and summer, but as the cold winds of autumn began to blow, Matthias and his war council concluded that they could not hold another winter. With a heavy heart, the gates had been lifted and the city surrendered.

It now seemed like little more than a dream, having happened a thousand years ago. Aton had put a quarter of the population to death before accepting its surrender and placing a regional governor over the city. Matthias had been forced to stand beside the Great Lord and watch his people murdered one by one.

These thoughts began to rage in his mind and his anger began to grow. As if sensing this, however, Aton suddenly spoke once more. He said, “My lords, I am sure that you each have much to do today, as I do, as well. My Lord Rosce, Wachiv, please come with me and provide your reports as we walk. Matthias, my friend, you are dismissed.” Without word of response, Aton turned and walked toward the door leading down from the tower top, the two lords following closely behind. Matthias, not desiring to walk with the others, waited a moment before starting down the stairs, as well.

He made his way to the Small Kitchen which was reserved for the lords and ladies living within the various towers of the enormous keep. As he rounded the corner and walked through the door, the smell of fresh bread assailed him and he took a moment to soak it in. It was a wondrous smell that brought back a thousand memories of his childhood in the halls of Qam’s keep. It reminded him of his wife, long dead, who had always desired to cook, despite that fact that she was terrible at it. The smell of burning bread filled their chambers as she offered her lord husband some food. He had always loved the experiences and eaten the bread energetically, despite tasting like ash.

Matthias shook his head as he walked up to the cook’s counter. This was not the time to start thinking about his wife and Qam. “Goro, my man, the aroma of your bread has pulled me away from the Great Lord himself, so hungry am I.” He chuckled as Goro, the master chef of the Small Kitchen, waddled off to prepare a plate. Matthias found himself a seat and had to wait no more than a moment before a tall, slender girl of no more than fifteen came walking out with his food. She placed his food down before him and turned back to the kitchen doors with a wink. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, musing over why a fifteen-year-old would be winking at a man nearing his fifty-third birthday.

His plate, besides holding half a loaf of fresh bread, had also come with two jams of some sort, an apple cleanly sliced, a small pile of grapes and a large wedge of cheese. Beside it the girl had placed a glass of red wine. Matthias took a drink of the wine and swirled it about in his mouth as he thought of what his duties for the day would entail. He needed to check the clerks and see if any new casualty reports had arrived during the night. He also needed to venture out past the city to the recently arrived caravan and see how many horses they had brought for purchase. He chuckled once more as he realized how quickly he had grown accustomed to his new position as Aton’s man. He had to admit that the Great Lord had a way of making you follow him.

The sun was well above the distant mountains by the time Matthias finished his plate and returned to his duties. When he checked the small desk within his modest chamber, he was pleased to see that only two casualty reports had come during the night and neither spoke of high numbers. Sometimes the reports he received infuriated him. What angered him even more, however, was the fact that Aton would periodically shrug of the death of hundreds of his own men. The Great Lord seemed to have only a passing interest in the lives of others, as long as his continued to go swimmingly.

Matthias leaned back in his chair and stared at the door. His entire face wrinkled as he placed his hands behind his head. A nagging presence in his mind kept knocking as if trying to remind him that it was there. He couldn’t put a finger on what it was, but he knew that it centered upon Aton. How was it that the man could inspire such loyalty? I watched him kill a quarter of my own people and yet I find myself occasionally jumping to do his bidding. He had no explanation for it, so he quickly rose to his feet once more and headed for the door. He had a man to see about some horses.

He and his steed had made it to the eastern gate in the Old Wall before he was stopped by a boy running up behind him. “Milord, the Great Lord wishes to see you. He said…” the boy said, taking a moment to catch his breath. “He said that if I found you within the hour he would reward me.”

Matthias smiled and patted the boy’s head. “I shall tell him that you completed your task most admirably. Thank you.”

Though he spoke cordially enough, the truth was the old man was somewhat perturbed by this new summons from Aton. The Great Lord was well aware of what Matthias was doing today and he didn’t enjoy being interrupted; a holdover from his time as Lord of Qam. With what was perhaps his hundredth sigh for the day, he turned his horse around and began the trip back to the keep. Though he hadn’t been out for more than a few moments, when he dismounted at the eastern stables he could feel his legs cramping and a pain creeping into his lower back. I’m getting old, this is ridiculous.

He slowly made his way to Aton’s favorite audience chamber, which was located about halfway up the keep. Matthias had a feeling that he had picked this particular room because he wanted people to feel like they needed to work to see him. That’s how he always felt once he got there, anyway.

“What do you mean he’s not here?” Matthias asked the steward standing next to the door.

“The Great Lord of the East is not here, milord. I was told to inform you that he could be found where last you had seen him.”

Matthias rolled his eyes and turned back toward the stairs. If he had been displeased before, he was almost fuming by the time he reached the top of the tower. He had only been up there twice and both times were a way for Aton to show his authority over the lords below him. His breathing came in quick, deep gasps and sweat stained his brow despite the prevailing chill. He paused for a moment, trying to wipe the sweat away and appear at least partially presentable. He then took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

Matthias’s first impression was that Aton had spent the majority of the morning changing clothes. The man now wore what appeared to be wool spun with gold for it twinkled whenever he moved. Both his vest and a new cape which hung limply from his shoulders were made of the sparkling cloth, though his pants were slightly more humble in nature, being made from white silk and having a modest cut. The same could not be said for the shirt Aton wore beneath his golden vest. It was made from the finest white silk, just like the pants, but that’s where the similarities ended. The sleeves were slashed and flared, causing his arms to appear as though they were bathed in colorless flames. The cuffs flared even more dramatically; with so much fabric hanging from them Matthias was sure an entire set of clothes could be fashioned from them alone. He wore various golden chains, amulets and rings and upon his head he wore his favorite golden circlet with a single diamond set within.

Matthias bowed, attempting to keep his frustration masked. “My lord, you called for me.”

“Yes yes, my friend,” Aton said with a warm smile and a wave as he turned to face the other. “Tell me, did the caravan have any good horses for sale?”

“I beg your pardon, my lord, but I was on my way to the traders when I received your summons. The boy said that you had promised to-”

“That boy is my cousin, Matthias, or perhaps a nephew. It’s hard to keep track of who I’m related to, for everyone wishes to claim a similar lineage as Aton Paredes.” He smiled at that, the sound of his own name seemingly fascinating him. “Well, no matter. We’ll be buying all of their horses regardless of their quality. Actually, I have a mind to requisition everything they came with; to help with the consolidation, of course.”

Matthias had realized early on that Aton Paredes did not fight war, he fought to consolidate mankind. He had been around Aton for months now, yet he could not name a single occasion in which the Great Lord had said the word ‘war.’

“By law, trade caravans are exempt from conflicts and are immune from acts of requisition.” They both knew the law, Matthias knew. He simply still had trouble recalling that his lord didn’t bother following many of them.

“Old laws for an old time, Matthias. The Old Empire has crumbled and gone and so, too, should its laws. Too long have we lived in the shadow of those beast riders. I plan to forge a new destiny for mankind. You will see.” Matthias simply nodded his head weakly, knowing there was no stopping Aton when he began to speak of his utopian future. “Tell me; were there any casualty reports during the night?”

“Only two, my lord, and they were nothing large enough to warrant concern.”

“How many, specifically, died?”

Matthias paused as though he were trying to remember, though in fact he always committed the casualty reports to memory. “One spoke of twenty-two lost somewhere near the Stonewall foothills. The other stated that fourteen men from the naval fleet were thrown overboard during a recent storm.”

A crooked smile came to Aton’s face, then. “Thirty-six men who will not see the New Empire. They were foolish to allow themselves to be killed.”

Matthias had heard many statements like this from Aton before but suddenly he found himself filled with a terrible rage. What sort of monster was the man standing before him? He threw his arms over his head with a grunt, turned his back on the Great Lord and walked to the edge of the tower. He looked down upon the city, filled with people, all possible sacrifices for the Paredes war machine. He whirled around, seemingly taken by an intense madness.

“They were your men! Thirty-six men will not see your New Empire because you throw their lives away! There are nothing more than dust to you. These men willingly suffer through constant torments, fighting and dying so that some westerners know your name!”

Aton stood motionless, a smile fixed upon his face as he listened to Matthias’s words. After the man had finished he continued to stand there for time, just staring at the old lord. The silence became a deafening ring in Matthias’s ears for he desired for Aton to say something, anything. At last, however, Aton broke his silence.

“You have never been a faithful servant, Matthias. I have provided you with countless opportunities to prove yourself worthy of my attention, worthy of my presence. Your name could have lived on within the history books. You could have become my councilor, my steward, my friend. You could have gone on to become a great hero, champion of the consolidation. Perhaps I would have even given Qam back to you. But now what am I to do with you?”

Aton’s words only fueled the fires burning within Matthias and he quickly charged across the tower at the Great Lord, roaring as he came. Aton’s eyes grew large and he wheeled backward a few steps before he regained his composure. He then simply smirked and said, “Kneel.”

The single word seemed to boom and echo throughout the air, tearing into his mind and forcing itself upon him. It was the loudest yet most subtle noise he had ever heard in his entire life. Without even thinking, Matthias dropped to his knees trembling. Aton, shaking his head, slowly walked over to the older man and placed his hand upon his shoulder. Without a word, Matthias felt as though he should stand, to be with his Great Lord and so he did.

Standing now beside him, Aton put his arm around Matthias’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for getting angry, my friend. The pressures of the duty given to me are immense, you understand. Sometimes, I must admit, it gets to me. But then I look out there,” he said, sweeping his other hand out, meaning to indicate the city below. Aton led Matthias over closer to the ledge so they could look down upon the city.

“It has such potential, doesn’t it? And so much beauty. If only there was some way to harness its energy and unleash it on the world. The consolidation would be over in a matter of moments.” Matthias just stood there looking out over the city, silently agreeing with Aton. He didn’t understand why, but it all appeared so much clearer than before. Perhaps he was under great pressure, as well, and he had to vent his frustrations. He considered himself lucky that Aton was such a good friend.

The thought had no more entered his mind than he felt a hand slam into his back, causing him to stumble forward. The short battlement surrounding the top of the tower caught him in the knee, his momentum continuing to carry him forward. Panic shot through his body as he realized he was going over the edge of the tower. He suddenly stopped, however, as a strong hand grabbed his green tunic. “Thank you, my lord,” he said without even looking.

“Yes, it is a good thing. You are trash, Matthias, and are simply in the way. Goodbye.”

A moment later, Matthias felt the hand release and the wind kiss his face as he went over the edge of the tallest tower of the Haean Keep.