Chapter XIX

Sleepless nights on the road he always spent staring at the fire. Shamira had insisted that he didn’t need to stay up all night, she and the other bodyguards would watch for trouble, but Tamas couldn’t keep his eyes closed long enough to fall asleep. When he did sleep he had nightmares, the worst kind for a father to have, that someone would take his eldest son from him. He spent every moment afraid now, every moment he worried that someone would come for Khol.

The fire danced before him, creating images that appeared for just a moment, but flickered away before he could recognize them. The slow crackle of the burning timber and the sparks rising up with the smoke were hypnotic, a welcome distraction from the truth of his situation.

Every now and then he glanced over to Khol, asleep in his bedroll, to reassure himself that the boy was still there. He slept so serenely. Tamas missed the days when he himself was so innocent that he could ignore the danger all around him and enjoy a good night’s sleep. Then again, with Sahar as a twin brother that innocence had been short-lived.

It was only when the crackling of the campfire blended into the sound of bird songs that Tamas realized just how long he’d been staring into the flames. The sunlight peeking over the eastern horizon warmed the back of his neck, just where his hair met his collar.

Khol yawned, stretched, and sat up in his bedroll. “Good morning.”

Tamas smiled and nodded to him. “Good morning.”

Khol yawned a second time, then said. “Remind me again, why are we heading east still? Rather than into the mountains and then to Nihilus shouldn’t we return home?”

“The capital has already been infiltrated,” said Tamas. “Even in our own castle we’re not safe. Out here, where the space is wide open there’s less chance for an assassin to sneak up on us. Furthermore, we’ll be safer in Nihilus because whoever wants us dead is an Arxian.”

“It just seems so…odd,” said Khol. “Typically I’d think a castle would keep us safe.”

“From an army? Yes, it will. But if an assassin has already gotten in then you’re safer where one cannot hide. Anyway, pack up your things. We have a long trek through Ten Red Pass.”

Khol obeyed his father, rolling up his bedroll and gathering whatever other belongings were nearby. “Have you ever heard the story of Ten Red Pass?”

“It’s where the Nihilites broke through when they invaded Arx,” said Tamas.

“No, I mean the reason why it’s called Ten Red Pass.” Khol shoved his things into his saddlebag and mounted his horse.

Tamas gave his horse's sides a light tap with his heels. “Ten warriors in red uniforms defended the pass against an army? Yes, I am familiar with the myth.”

“Myth? You think it’s a myth?”

The two of them, along with their bodyguards started up the road again.

“Yes, a myth,” said Tamas. “Ten warriors held the pass against an army but the Arxian army couldn’t hold it against the Nihilites? I’d say it’s a myth.”

Khol gave his father a confused look. “Then why is it called ‘Ten Red Pass?’”

“I don’t know. Perhaps ten knights in red tabbards defended the pass with the help of thousands of conscripts, but credit for the victory went to the knights. Or perhaps the real reason why the pass is called ‘Ten Red’ has been forgotten, and the story was dreamed up later to justify the name.” Tamas scratched his head. “Not everything written in books is true, Khol. Not even what’s in the history books.”

It was a lot to chew on, and Khol mulled it over in his head as they plodded up steeper ground. Khol loved books, all the stories they told, the truths they safe-guarded, and the way that they pulled you into another time, another place. He knew that not everything one read in books could be trusted as fact, he was no stranger to fiction. It was odd, though, to think that even the books typically considered to be non-fiction did not always contain truth. How often were such books the product of mere guess work? Misunderstandings? Or even outright lies?

“Look up ahead,” said Tamas, pointing up the mountain road. “There’s the Bastion of the Sentinels.”

Khol turned his eyes up from the path beneath his horse's hooves to see a brick wall in the middle of Ten Red Pass, and in the center of that wall was a tall tower lined with arrow slits. At the base of the tower was a great wooden gate, protected by a steel portcullis. At the tops of the tallest mountains on either side of the pass were four watch-towers, each with archers and trebuchet at the top.

“You see that, Khol?” Tamas said. “That’s called taking initiative. In days long past the Arxians used to rely almost purely on the terrain to defend their borders. They believed that God had built the mountains as walls around the land of Arx. He may very well have, but when God gives us a blessing it’s up to us to make the best possible use of it. Your grandmother had these fortifications built shortly after Arx conquered Nihilus.”

“Seems unnecessary now that Arx and Nihilus are at peace,” said Khol.

“Aye, it does. A wall between you and an ally is unnecessary. Let’s pray the Bastion of the Sentinels never becomes necessary again.”

Yet, as the two of them drew closer and closer to the Bastion of the Sentinels, they heard the sounds of shouting, metal striking metal, and arrows hissing through the air.

Khol craned his head in an attempt to better hear the sounds from up ahead. “A battle?”

Tamas drew his sword and turned to the bodyguards. “Shamira, Atzel, come with me. The rest of you, stay here and protect Khol at all costs!”

“Yes, sire!”

Tamas took off up the mountain path with Shamira and Atzel trailing behind him. It did not take long for him to arrive at the gate. From what he could tell, all of the fighting was on the eastern side of the Bastion. “Open the gate for your emperor!” he shouted. If there was a battle he wanted to help fight off whatever force was attacking.

The sounds of shouting and fighting continued for a few more moments, until one voice rose above all the rest. “Wait, everyone! Wait! Hold!” Almost instantly the sounds of the battle ceased. “Did anyone hear that just now?”

Total silence? Had the assault ceased? Tamas shouted again, “This is Emperor Tamas. I command you to open this gate!”

On the other side he could hear them all murmuring. One archer climbed the stairs on the other side of the wall and leaned over the battlements to see for himself that their emperor was, indeed, the one at the gate.

“Oh! Your majesty! So sorry to keep you waiting!” The archer turned to the others inside. “It’s truly him. Open the gate.”

The portcullis screeched and began its slow rise. When the gate swung open Tamas was shocked at what he saw.

Half of the sentinels inside the Bastion wore blue sashes over their uniforms, the other half wore green sashes. Several of them were covered in red powder, and one held in his hand a flag pole with a pair of trousers attached to the end where the flag should be. Every sword in a sentinel’s hand was a blunted training sword. Then there were the arrows in each quiver and knocked to each bowstring. Where the arrow head should have been was a small cloth pouch covered in red powder.

Tamas sheathed his sword. “What is all this?”

One of the sentinels, covered from head to toe in red powder, stepped forward. “I’m sorry, your majesty. You caught us in the middle of a training exercise.”

“A training exercise?” Tamas repeated, giving them all a skeptical look. Most of them were blushing, looking like his children always did whenever he caught them sneaking early desserts. He pointed to a wooden board up on the wall that was marked “Team Blue” and “Team Green” with tally marks.

“You keep score for your training exercises?” he asked.

“Oh…aye!” said the sentinel. “It helps us…keep track of…umm…”

“Points?” said another sentinel.

Tamas shook his head and chuckled. “You were playing a game. I understand that. I was just worried when I approached because of all the noise.”

“You’re not angry?”

Tamas sheathed his sword. “No. I imagine it must be dull all the way up here in the mountains.”

“We get the news from traveling merchants and iron caravans, but yes, most of the time it’s boring in the Bastion.”

“Well, I commend you for holding onto your sanity as much as you have,” said Tamas. His subjects waited to see if he would laugh before they themselves joined in. “I didn't catch your name, commander...”

“Caleb, your grace,” said the leader of the sentinels. Caleb pulled up the edges of an imaginary dress in a mock curtsy. “What brings you to our humble abode?”

“I'm traveling to Nihilus,” said Tamas. “This is the quickest route.”

“I see,” said Caleb, nodding. “Well, you are welcome to eat at our table, and to stay the night if you wish. We don't have guest quarters, though. Certainly nothing fit for his imperial majesty.”

“His imperial majesty would be pleased enough to sleep on the road,” said Tamas. “I'm sure your accommodations are quite wonderful, but my snoring sounds like a rock slide, and I'd rather not cause a panic in the night.”

Caleb laughed and scratched behind his ear. “As you wish, your grace. Blessings to you on the road.”

“Thank you.”

Tamas went back for Khol and the other two bodyguards, explained what he'd seen, and then brought them through the Bastion. As they passed through, all of the sentinels bowed before their emperor and the crown prince. Khol waved to his subjects and grinned.

From there Tamas, Khol, and their entourage hiked through Ten Red Pass for many hours before finally stopping to build a fire and cook lunch. The bodyguards all groaned as they dropped their packs onto the ground, and rolled their aching shoulders.

“So it was just a game?” Khol asked.

“A game, but also a training exercise,” said Tamas.

“I didn't know grown-ups played games,” said Khol.

Tamas laughed. “Not as often as we'd like, but we do.”

“You didn't take them up on their offer to eat at their table. You don't trust them?”

“I trust most of them,” said Tamas, “But all it takes is one traitor. Just one, and we could both be poisoned. Right now...I hate to say it, but I don't trust that many Arxians in one place.”

Khol glanced back and forth at Shamira and the other bodyguards preparing their meals. “Yet we're protected by Arxians even now...”

“I know each of these men and women,” said Tamas, stretching his sore legs. “I've shared food and drink with them, heard them tell stories about their families, traveled with them, even bled with one of them. This lot I can trust.”

There rang the sound of a horn around the bend. Shrill and high-pitched, and at the end the blast died, as if the blower had simply run out of breath. Tamas, Khol, and the bodyguards all watched as a battalion of men and women in crude leather armor rounded the bend. Each carried a shield made from a door broken off of its hinges on one arm. In the other hand they each held a wood-cutting axe, a blacksmith's hammer, a cleaver, a butcher's knife, or whatever other weapons these peasants could find.

“Good morrow,” said Tamas as they approached. He looked them all over with silent questions.

The one leading them had a head shaven bald, steel earrings in both ears, and a beard upon his chin. He held in his left hand a long stick, formerly part of a broom, with a knife strapped tightly to the end of it. In his right hand he held a hollowed bull's horn, which he blew again as they drew close to the encampment. Once again, the sound was shrill, like the last screech of a dying hawk, and it tapered off at the end as the man lost his breath. The battalion stopped and stood with their shields forming a wall in front of them.

“I'd offer you some lunch, but I don't think we have enough,” said Tamas.

The bald man cleared his throat and spoke. “Tamas, son of Therion, the Berknot Militia hereby orders you to surrender, you and your son both. Arx will not suffer a Nihilite upon its throne, especially not one with the soul of a demon.”

More Arxians who wanted Tamas and Khol dead? Or were these people part of the same conspiracy?

Tamas stretched out his arms and yawned. As he brought his arms back in, as casually as he could manage, he placed one hand upon the hilt of his sword. The bodyguards all gathered in close to Khol and stood between him and the Berknot Militia. “I'm afraid I cannot surrender,” said Tamas. “And you don't have the military might to make me.”

“We'll put you down if we need to,” said the bald man.

“If you spill even a single drop of my blood you'll unleash an army of daemons,” said Tamas. “Is that what you want?”

“No,” said the bald man. “But if we are forced to kill you and unleash the forces of the Void then so be it. We are confident that God will not allow the demons to overrun this world.”

“I will not surrender,” said Tamas. “I know the God of Erets better than you do. I met him. Face to face.”

“Lies,” the bald man said, flatly.

It was the first time anyone ever accused Tamas of lying about that encounter. Though, it made sense that not everyone would believe the tale. “Tell yourself whatever you need to so you can sleep at night,” said Tamas.

“We will silence your lies once and for all,” said the bald man. “We can give you a swift and painless death, you and your son both, or you can die in the heat of battle. It's your choice.”

Tamas drew his sword and sneered at the bald man. “Khol, run back to the Bastion. The rest of you, protect him.”

The bald man put away his horn and grasped the spear with both hands, “Berknot soldiers, prepare for battle! Make Johath the Brave proud, and drive the Nihilites from these sacred lands!”