The Three Nations Box Set Page 4

  Prove it.

  Gabriel closed his eyes, trying to push away the whispers. But now he saw again the boy and his protector, the old man who had felled him so easily. His hand trailed up to his forehead, feeling the sticky wetness of the gash where he had struck the wall.

  Rage and hate swelled in his chest, pushing aside the despair. How could he rest in peace now, knowing he had allowed the boy to escape? Knowing his family’s killer walked free?

  Get up.

  Placing his hands beneath him, Gabriel staggered to his feet. A groan came from the bricks above him, and stones rattled down. Dust stained the air, filling his lungs. Turning, he strode down the alleyway, and out into open air.

  As he stepped onto the street, a roar came from behind him, followed by a whoosh of air as the bricks came tumbling down.

  But Gabriel no longer cared. There was only one thought in his mind now, one all-consuming desire.

  Kill the demon.

  5

  “Come closer, let me see your face.” The voice snaked its way through the cracks in Eric’s consciousness.

  Something within him shrank from it, fighting against the darkness creeping through his mind.

  “Do not be afraid. You have a gift. Let me show it to you…”

  Cracks spread through his mind, his defences crumbling before the darkness. The silhouette of a face began to form.

  “Ahhh,” the voice let out a long sigh. “I can almost see you now, my child. Almost…” the voice was eager, touched by greed.

  Alarms sound through Eric’s mind and his instincts screamed for him to flee. With a wrench, he tore himself free.

  An ungodly wail echoed through the darkness. Then light flashed through the shadows, and the dream ended.

  “No!” Eric screamed.

  Gasping for air, he sat bolt upright and looked around. The forest stretched out around him, and for a second he struggled to remember how he’d come to be there. Then it all came rushing back – Oaksville, the Baronians, the storm, the fall.

  Eric quickly patted himself down, unable to understand how he’d survived. There had still been some twenty feet of open space below him when he’d released the rope.

  He jumped as a dry, rasping chuckle carried across the leaflitter. Looking around, he found the old man seated on a log behind him. He held his short sword in one hand and was slowly sliding a whetstone down its blade. The whisper of stone against steel carried across the clearing.

  “Awake at last,” he said.

  Taking slow, measured movements, Eric pulled himself up and turned to look at the old man. He frowned, struggling to recall his name. The cold ashes of a fire lay between them, and through the treetops Eric could just make out the rising sun.

  “Alastair,” he said at last, his eyes drawn inexorably to the sword. “Where am I? What happened?”

  The laughter came again. “You fell,” he smiled. “Luckily, I caught you.”

  Eric shook his head, his frown deepening. “Caught me? That must have been twenty feet…”

  “Guess I’m stronger than I look.” At that, he slapped his knees and stood. “How are you feeling? I must have carried you at least a mile last night. I’d rather not repeat the experience.”

  Eric shivered, remembering his bone-numbing weariness from the night before. Placing his hands against the damp ground, he pushed himself to his feet, stumbling slightly as he straightened.

  “I’m alright,” he said hesitantly, swaying on his feet. His eyes narrowed. “Why did you help me, Alastair?”

  The old man only waved a hand. Sheathing his sword, he picked up a few items off the ground and then looked back at Eric. “Because you needed help. Now, we’d better get moving. It won’t be long before the townsfolk realise you’ve slipped through their noose. At least a few are bound to come after you.”

  Eric clenched his fists at that, fresh guilt welling in his throat. “Maybe I should let them catch me,” he whispered. Biting back tears, he looked across at Alastair. “After what I did, I deserve it.”

  Alastair stilled. “Maybe,” he mused, his face hard. “But what happened was an accident, and martyring yourself won’t bring those people back. It won’t rebuild their houses or restore their livelihoods.”

  “Then what do you propose I do?” Eric replied bitterly. “Destruction follows me wherever I go.”

  “That’s what you need to change.” Alastair’s eyes found him across the clearing. “Maybe I can help you with that.”

  Eric’s words caught in his throat. He stared at the old man. “What do you mean?” he managed finally.

  Alastair only smiled. Waving a hand, he turned towards the trees. “Later. For now, we need to get well clear of Oaksville. Come.”

  At that the old man started off into the trees without looking back. After a moment’s hesitation, Eric shook his head and moved after him. If he’d carried Eric half the night, it didn’t seem likely the old man would betray him now.

  They moved quickly through the forest, the old man setting a pace that even Eric struggled to keep up with. He found himself wondering at the man’s age – his wrinkled face looked at least seventy years old, but he moved with the agility of a far younger man. And he’d managed to overpower Gabriel in the alleyway, despite the other man having an extra foot on Alastair.

  The trees pressed in around them as they moved, the earth turning to mud beneath their feet. The scent of fresh rain hung heavy on the air, and the first calls of the morning chorus carried through the forest, lifting the last traces of sleep from Eric’s mind. He caught a flash of red in the canopy, and looked up to see a gang of Parakeets hopping through the trees.

  Settling into the rhythm of the trek, he allowed his mind to wander. He turned Alastair’s words over in his head, pondering their meaning. How could the old man help him? He could not begin to imagine controlling the power inside him. When it rose, it came like a flood, sweeping away all thought of resistance. There was no standing against it.

  They were moving downhill now, and Eric struggled to keep his feet on the muddy ground. He grasped at seedlings and low hanging branches as he moved, careful to control his descent, even as Alastair pulled ahead. Eric tried to pick up the pace, but suddenly his feet slipped out from beneath him. Landing flat on his back, he slid the rest of the way down the slope, finally coming to rest in a muddy heap at the bottom.

  Groaning, he picked himself up and tried to wipe the dirt from his clothes. He turned as laughter came through the trees. Alastair stood nearby, his arms folded and a wry grin twisting his lips.

  “That was graceful,” he remarked.

  Eric spat dirt from his mouth and shook his head. “Where are we going?”

  “The Gods’ road, if it’s safe,” Alastair replied as he started off again. “But we don’t have to walk much farther. I left my horses… ah, here we are.”

  Alastair drew to a sudden stop and gave a short, sharp whistle. Movement came from the trees as two horses stepped from the shadows. The leader stood over sixteen hands tall with a glistening coat of midnight black. A silver streak marked its brow, and a worn leather saddle was slung loosely over its back. Muscles rippled along its powerful frame as it wandered over to Alastair and nuzzled at his shoulder.

  The second horse was smaller, with a chestnut coat and blue eyes that stared at Eric with a strange intelligence. It wore a thin leather saddle and carried four saddlebags. Wandering across to Eric, it gave a loud snort and shook its head.

  “His name is Briar,” Alastair called across to Eric. “And this beauty is Elcano.”

  Reaching down, Alastair quickly tightened the straps of Elcano’s saddle before moving across to the other horse. “I didn’t think I’d be gone so long,” he spoke as he readied the horses. “In fact, from what I’d seen I thought my visit would be quick. You’re quite the elusive quarry, Eric.”

  Eric frowned. “Why were you looking for me?” he tried to keep the frustration from his voice, but the old man’s stubborn silence was already growing old.

  Beside him, Alastair gave Briar a pat on the stomach and straightened. “A friend sent me. I wasn’t sure why, until I saw what had happened,” he sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t arrive in time. And I promise you, all your questions will be answered soon. But right now, we need to move. The higher the sun gets, the more likely they are to come looking for you. Do you know how to ride?”

  Swallowing, Eric shook his head. Lips pursed, he eyed Briar. The horse may have been small beside Elcano, but his bulk still dwarfed Eric. Trying not to look intimidated, Eric reached out and ran his hand along the horse’s mane.

  “I’ve ridden one once or twice,” he offered.

  Alastair’s lips twitched. “Very well. A quick lesson will have to suffice. Come here, stand on Briar’s side.”

  Silently, Eric listened to Alastair’s instructions. He watched as the old man placed his foot in the stirrup and demonstrated how to swing himself into the saddle, before dismounting again. Nodding, he waved for Eric to copy him.

  Briar shifted on his hooves as Eric reached out and placed his hand on the saddle horn. Turning its head, the horse looked back at him and nickered. Eric forced a smile and gave Briar a reassuring pat.

  “Place the toes of your left boot into the stirrup, hold onto the saddle horn, and then try swinging yourself up,” Alastair offered from beside him.

  Nodding, Eric did as he was told. Pushing himself off the ground, he tried to swing his other leg over the saddle. Halfway through the manoeuvre he lost his balance, but as he started to fall backwards Alastair gave him a quick shove. He tumbled forward, inhaling a mouthful of horsehair in the process, before settling into the saddle.

  Eyes watering, he straightened and looked down at Alastair. “I think I’ll st
ay up here. I’d rather not try that again just now.”

  “Agreed,” Alastair chuckled. He moved across to Elcano and swung himself into the saddle in one fluid movement.

  Eric shifted uncomfortably, trying to find his balance as Alastair continued his instruction. “Now, hold the reins in one hand, like this,” he demonstrated. “Pull them gently in the direction you want Briar to go – not too hard mind you, or you’ll hurt his mouth. A gentle push with your heels will get him started, although he’s pretty good at just following Elcano. Pull back on the reins if you want him to stop. Ready?”

  “Ahhh,” Eric held the reins in his hand, still trying to put the directions together in his head. “What was the first part again?”

  “Just try not to fall off.” Alastair grinned.

  He gave another whistle, and Elcano turned and started off into the trees. Before Eric could attempt to follow Alastair’s directions, Briar moved off after the other horse, and suddenly it was all he could do just to hold on.

  Gripping the reins in one hand and the saddle horn with the other, he ducked as a low branch swept past. The thud of the horse’s hooves carried up through the saddle with each step, rattling his spine, and using the stirrups he tried to lift himself from the saddle. The thudding eased, but his legs quickly began to tire.

  Ahead, Alastair was drawing away, and remembering the old man’s instructions, Eric gave Briar a short kick. The horse snorted and shook his head, but he picked up the pace.

  A few minutes later Alastair slowed as the trees opened up around them. Briar moved up alongside the old man as they turned onto the Gods’ road. Eric glanced around as sunlight filtered through the thin canopy overhead, wary of being seen, but the road was empty.

  “Is this a good idea?” he asked, his teeth rattling as they picked up the pace.

  “It’s the only way. The forest is too dense around Oaksville, and it doesn’t open out until you reach the desert. It would take days to get anywhere,” Alastair answered.

  “But surely they’ll send patrols out along the road?” Eric argued.

  “As soon as they realise you’ve escaped,” Alastair nodded. “But I’m hoping we’ll be quick enough to stay ahead of them.”

  He flashed a grin and then kicked Elcano into a gallop. Feeling the horse shift beneath him, Eric had a second to grab at the saddle horn, before Briar leapt after Elcano. He gasped as he found himself lifting into the air, and he clenched his thighs around the saddle, desperate to hang on.

  Eric’s heart raced as his feet pressed into the stirrups, holding him in place, and sucking in a breath he looked ahead. Briar had closed the distance Alastair had opened between them, and now they were right on the other horse’s tail.

  Slowly, Eric found himself settling into the rhythm of Briar’s stride. Fire burned in his legs as he crouched in the saddle, but he pressed it down, concentrating on Alastair’s back. The pounding of hooves drowned out the sounds of the forest, and sunlight flashed through the trees, lighting the way ahead.

  As they raced down the Gods’ road, Eric’s mind strayed, wondering again at the mystery of the old man. Though he knew nothing of Alastair, something about him seemed to inspire trust. Or maybe Eric was just desperate for what he offered – a way to control the curse inside him.

  Glancing ahead, Eric watched as the Gods’ road slowly curved away from them. The trees to either side of the path obscured their view beyond the bend, but by now they were far from Oaksville, and any hunters were bound to be behind them. Eric felt the weight lifting from his chest with each thud of Briar’s hooves, his fear falling away. Guilt still wrapped around his heart, but clear of the town, he found his will to live returning. Alastair was right – his death would achieve nothing. But alive, Eric could at least try to right his wrongs.

  As they raced around the bend, Eric caught a glimpse of movement in the woods to either side of them. Frowning, he glanced back and saw black-garbed figures stepping from the trees. Looking ahead, he opened his mouth to shout a warning to Alastair. But the words died on his lips as he saw Alastair pulling hard on Elcano’s reins.

  Ahead, a trail of wagons blocked the road. Black-garbed men and women moved between the wagons, each carrying some variety of sword, axe or club. Most of the men sported thick leather armour stained the same black as their clothes. Thick beards covered their faces, and several bowmen sat on the wagons. Sunlight glinted off their steel-tipped arrows as they pointed them at Alastair and Eric.

  “Baronians,” he heard Alastair curse as Briar drew to a stop beside the old man.

  Ice spread through Eric’s chest as the men he’d spotted in the trees moved to surround them. Baronians were the scum of the Three Nations. They considered themselves above the laws of the lands, beyond the power of kings or councils. Nationless vagrants, the Baronian tribes wandered between the nations, wreaking havoc wherever they went. Normally they would never come so close to a settlement as large as Oaksville. But seeing them now, Eric had a terrifying suspicion about what had brought them so close.

  Amongst the black-garbed ranks, a giant of a man made his way towards them. Thick leather armour covered his massive chest and he wore his hair pulled back in the Baronian fashion of a ponytail. A two-handed greatsword was strapped to his back, and his beard was matted with filth. His black eyes stared at them as he drew to a stop in front of the horses.

  “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

  6

  Gabriel had not taken long to sift through the remains of his family home. The flames had finally died with the evening rain, but what they had left behind was barely recognisable. In the ruins of the forge, he found a few gold coins that were his family’s life savings, along with a short sword an old soldier had once given his father as payment. He took both, carefully tying the sword and its sheath to his belt.

  During his search, he had studiously avoided the room in which his family lay. But as he was leaving, a glimmer amidst the rubble caught his eye. Reaching down, he’d lifted the silver necklace from the ashes. It was the necklace he had given his fiancée as an anniversary gift. At the end of the silver chain, a tiny blue sapphire glinted in the light. He had saved all year to afford it. He could still remember the light in her eyes as he placed it around her neck.

  He wore it around his own neck now, a silent reminder of all he had lost. Wandering down the dark streets, Gabriel slowly made his way towards the city gates. Lost souls stumbled past him, their eyes empty, their faces black with soot. Watching them, an idea came to Gabriel, and he slowed. His eyes were drawn to a man wearing the uniform of the city guard.

  The man did not look up as Gabriel approached. In the dull gloom, he could have been a statue. He sat alone on a crumbling wall, his head held in his hands.

  “What are you doing?” Gabriel asked bluntly.

  The guard took a long time to move. When he did, he looked up at Gabriel, blinking slowly in the moonlight. “What?”

  Reaching down, Gabriel gripped the man by the shoulders and shook him. “I said, what are you doing?” Gabriel growled. “Why are you sitting here like a coward, letting the demon escape?”

  Light flickered in the man’s eyes and with a giant hand he pushed Gabriel away. He staggered to his feet, towering over Gabriel. “A coward, am I?” his hand shot out and caught Gabriel by the shirt. “Come here, little man, let’s see how brave you are?”

  Though Gabriel was anything but little, he had no desire to go toe to toe with the guard, and he quickly tore himself free. He raised his hands in a sign of peace. “How about we both prove our bravery, and go after the demon?”

  The guard stilled at that. He glanced away, his shoulders slumping. “Long gone by now,” he muttered. “And what is a mortal man to do against something like that, anyway? The Gods know we almost had him, but he slipped through our fingers.”

  “He had help,” Gabriel whispered. He stepped in close to the man and placed a hand on his arm. “But they can’t have gotten far. I saw them not long ago, near the eastern wall. If they’re heading east, they won’t get far through the forest. They’ll have to return to the Gods’ road eventually.”

  The man shrugged. “Maybe. But like I said, what can we do? Only the Goddess could stand against that darkness. And she isn’t exactly easy to reach these days.”