“Our commiserations to your Emperor,” the Battle Lord broke in smoothly. “Such a grievous loss is to be regretted but we come only for what it rightfully…”
“You come for conquest and plunder, Northman,” the grey haired man told him. “You will find only death in these lands. There will be no further parleys, no more talk, we will kill you all as you have killed our Hope. Expect no quarter. Now give us his body.”
Lord Darnel drank from a flask and swilled wine around his mouth before spitting it on the hooves of the guardsman’s horse. “He breaks the rules of parley with his discourtesies, my lord,” he observed to Al Hestian. “His life is clearly forfeit.”
“No it isn’t.” Vaelin spurred between the two parties, addressing the guardsman. “I’ll escort you to the body.”
He could feel the Battle Lord’s fury as they rode over to the corpse, sensing Lord Darnel’s hate, remembering something Aspect Arlyn had told him, Men who love themselves hate those who would dim their glory.
The guardsmen dismounted and lifted the body of their Hope onto a pack-horse. The grey haired guardsman tightened the straps securing the body to the horse and turned to Vaelin, his eyes shining with tears. “What is your name?” he demanded hoarsely.
He could think of no reason not to tell him. “Vaelin Al Sorna.”
“Your consideration does not dim my hate, Vaelin Al Sorna, Eruhin Mahktar, Hope Killer. My honour tells me I should take my own life, but my hate will keep me alive. From now on my every breath will be drawn with but one purpose, to see your end. My name is Neliesen Nester Hevren, Captain of the Tenth Cohort of the Imperial Guard. Do not forget it.”
With that he and his comrades had mounted and ridden away.
Sometimes the Faith requires all we have. The Aspect’s words again, spoken that day last winter when he walked with Vaelin on the snow covered practice field listening to what he had to say about the king’s plans. It had been cold that day, colder than usual even for Weslin, the novice brothers stumbling in the snow as they ran and fought and bore the sting of their masters’ canes.
“This will be a war unlike any we have known,” the Aspect had said, his breath steaming the air. “A great sacrifice will be made. Many of our brothers will not return. You understand this?”
Vaelin nodded, he had listened to the Aspect for a long time and found he had no more words.
“But you must return, Vaelin. Fight as hard as you have to, kill as much as you have to. No matter how many of your men and your brothers fall, you will return to this Realm.”
Vaelin nodded again and the Aspect smiled, the only time Vaelin had seen him do so since that first day at the Order House gate all those years ago. Somehow it made him seem old, the way it creased the lines around his eyes and his thin lips. He had never seemed old before.
“Sometimes, you remind me so much of your mother,” the Aspect said sadly, then turned and walked away, his tall form moving through the snow without the slightest misstep.
Scratch came loping up the rise, a cloud of dust ascending in his wake, a hare dangling from his mouth. Large, wide-footed hares seemed to proliferate in the scrub lands and, like Scratch, the Realm Guard had been quick to take advantage of easy game. The slave-hound dropped the hare at Vaelin’s feet and gave one of his short, rasping barks.
“Thanks, daft dog,” Vaelin scratched at his neck. “But you can have it.” He lifted the hare and threw it down the hill, Scratch scampering after with a joyful yelp.
“You usually leave him behind when we go on campaign,” Frentis said, sitting down and unstoppering his flask.
“Thought he would appreciate a new hunting ground.”
“So he was their emperor’s son, was he?” Frentis asked. “The man in the white armour.”
“His chosen heir. It seems the emperor chooses his successor from amongst his subjects.”
Frentis frowned. “How’s he do that then?”
“Something to do with their gods, I believe.”
“Think he would’ve chosen someone who could fight better. The silly sod couldn’t even sit on his horse right.” Despite his young brother’s levity he could sense his concern. “Had no business being there really.”
“Do not worry over me, brother.” He gave Frentis a grin. “My heart does not weigh so heavily.”
Frentis nodded and turned his gaze on the vast expanse of desert to the south. “Not really sure why the king wants this place so bad. It’s all dust and scrub. Haven’t seen a tree since we landed.”
“We come in search of what is rightfully ours by ancient treaty, and to avenge the wrongs done us by the Denier Empire.”