Annev stepped up to a copse of fat silver maple trees and picked the one that looked easiest to climb. He cautiously pulled himself onto the lowest branch then half walked, half climbed up the crooked limbs till he found a good vantage point from which to watch Sodar and his companion. He eased himself into the wide crook of a knotted branch and listened carefully to the men below.
A man in a thick brown cloak sat by a small campfire. Sodar’s old kettle sat among the coals, its left side dented where Annev had once dropped it. The man’s damp boots were drying on a flat rock by the fire, a hint of steam rising from them. The stranger sipped from a cup held in both hands, and Annev noticed a pile of discarded arrows on the ground nearby.
Sodar was pacing in front of the fire, muttering under his breath.
‘We’ve been haemorrhaging members for the last two millennia,’ the stranger said, setting down his cup. He picked up one of his boots, stuck a hand inside then grimaced and pushed both boots closer to the fire. ‘But this sudden drop is too fast. It’s unnatural.’
Sodar paced faster. ‘Just fifty artisans,’ he breathed. ‘But there were almost a thousand – and eighty of those were ageless. Our numbers had been growing. Now you’re saying there are fewer than fifty artisans in total?’ Sodar stopped pacing and looked at the stranger. ‘How many ageless ones are left?’
The man sighed. ‘Counting us …?’ He ticked people off on his fingers. ‘Seven.’
‘Seven?’
Annev strained to hear Sodar’s voice, which was barely a whisper. The priest sank down onto a large rock by the fire, staring into space.
What are they talking about? Annev wondered. What’s an artisan – or an ageless one?
‘Seven,’ the man repeated, ‘plus the forty or so who will never get to make the ageless covenant – but many of the brethren have gone into hiding, so numbers aren’t exact. Could be fewer, or more.’ The man rubbed his hands together.
Sodar shook his head. ‘Seven,’ he repeated in hushed tones. He looked up. ‘Morgenstone?’
‘Gone.’
‘Balhamel?’
The stranger shook his head and Sodar slumped a little. After a moment, he lifted his head again, suddenly earnest. ‘You said seven ageless ones. What about the wanderer?’
The stranger seemed to think about this. ‘Eight if you count him, but I try not to. For all I know, he died decades ago.’
Sodar nodded. ‘What happened, Arnor? Did the brethren go to war? I thought Reeve—’
‘No, no war. Not the kind we know, anyway.’ Arnor scratched his stubbly cheeks. ‘The guilds had become too divisive – you know how it’s been the last two decades.’ Sodar nodded. ‘Well, it got worse. A lot worse. About three years ago they began threatening each other – the usual paranoia targeted at the Mindwalkers and Stormcallers, plus some dissent among the others – but a few months after that whole enclaves started to disappear. We didn’t realise at first, and by the time we thought to investigate, all of the Dionachs Tobar south of the Kalej Mountains were gone. Dead or vanished.’
‘But the High Council must have noticed? Arch-Dionach Kadmon and Arch-Dionach Levi are both from Tir Reota.’
‘They were among the first to disappear. No one realised – not even Reeve – until the Council meeting. The messengers we sent to investigate never returned.’
‘Unbelievable,’ Sodar breathed, shaking his head. ‘To think it could happen so fast …’
‘Exactly. We suspected an external threat. Perhaps some Inquisitors or some other Terran artisans who had made their way south. But the patrol we sent to the highways found nothing, while the messengers we sent to the enclaves never came back.’ Arnor stood, then used the hem of his cloak to grab the handle of the simmering kettle and pour himself more tea.
‘We only realised the problem was within the Brotherhood a year ago,’ Arnor continued, blowing on his cup. ‘That’s when the Faction War began. It was mostly politicking at first, with the guilds vying for what little control remained. That changed when some radicals calling themselves the Vanguards of Truth tried to seize power. They eliminated most of the High Council before the rest coordinated enough to stop them, but almost everyone involved was killed and recruiting for the Brotherhood has completely stopped since. The four guilds are now too afraid to work together and many brethren have gone into hiding. Reeve has tried to coax them out so we can rebuild, but only the Shieldbearers are receiving him.’
‘What of our own guild? Surely the Breathbreakers will listen to you.’
Arnor shook his head. ‘Ours has been a policy of isolation, and that works against us here. The ones I’ve found prefer to be left alone, and with nothing to hold magisterial power over, the High Council is defunct.’
‘Fifty,’ Sodar repeated again, seeming not to hear Arnor. He shook his head. ‘Out of hundreds of thousands. The true religion of Odar nearly wiped out.’ He stared at the low-burning flames of the campfire for a long moment then sniffed. ‘We’ve done to ourselves what Keos and his Bloodlords could never manage.’
Arnor put his empty cup down and pulled his damp boots back on.
‘I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Sodar. But we need you. Reeve sent me to ask you to come back north. There are many who still remember you. You could be a rallying point – someone who’s kept clear of all the politics and bloodshed.’
‘No. My mission here is vital. Not just for the Brotherhood.’ Sodar’s eyes locked on the fire. ‘What I do is for the whole world.’
Arnor stared at Sodar’s face, slowly nodding, though it was clear he didn’t agree.
‘I see,’ he said. ‘Well, a lot has happened, and Reeve wanted to be sure you understood our situation. He also asked after the boy. Wanted to know if his magic had matured. If you brought him back to Quiri he could begin training with the Order.’ Sodar was already shaking his head, but Arnor continued. ‘Whatever advantages you’re finding here, I’m sure we can match them there.’
‘Not safety.’
Arnor huffed, undeterred. ‘We need you, Sodar. Frankly, with so few ageless ones left, I’m surprised Reeve hasn’t forced you to come up and join the High Council.’
‘I’m on the Council,’ Sodar said, eyes distant. ‘But my mission occupies too much time and attention. It doesn’t permit me to participate.’
‘Doesn’t “permit”?’ Arnor scoffed. ‘Surely with the Order decimated—’
‘No,’ Sodar said, focusing on Arnor. ‘Unless Reeve himself comes to call me back – unless he forces me to – I will stay here and fulfil my task. As I have done for these many years.’
Arnor’s fists clenched and unclenched. At length, though, he gritted his teeth and nodded. ‘Odar knows we need you – I’m sure you could convince some of the others to come back, probably even double our number – but if you must stay here …’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t hold with the notion that one boy is more important than a whole religion – but nor will I argue with an Arch-Dionach.’
Sodar gazed at the man opposite him, his eyes sad. ‘Don’t burden me with that title, Arnor. Here, I am Brother Sodar and nothing more.’
Arnor huffed. ‘You giving me licence to argue, then?’
‘No.’