Chapter Twelve - Discovery in Westerlyn

Winter was on the way. A brisk cold whipped Gaden across the face as he rode swiftly behind Elric with Avan on his left, a bow and a battle axe strapped to his back. Avan following closely beside him.

The letter brought to Gaden by Daea earlier that morning had been from Elric. It had been an invitation for Gaden to accompany him and his son to the village of Westerlyn, north of Aelwynn near Meromar Lake. It was reported that Westerlyn was attacked by a group of unknown beings. Word got back to Thale about the attack through a scouting team. Thale suspected, as did Elric that the attacks were led by a similar group that chased Karina the night she escaped. Their job was to assist the village, drive off the intruders if they were still there, and try to determine who or what they were. Elric decided one more person might be helpful, and since Gaden had told him recently of his interest in Alldelan military service, had invited him.

Though Gaden was not officially considered a member of the Alldelan military, he still bore their colors and was given a full set of protective armor. His wife had beamed at him as he stepped out to leave, though she had her concerns. This wasn’t a simple reconnaissance mission, there was the chance for combat. Gaden had, nevertheless, agreed to go.

From the crests of the hills they climbed, Gaden could see the tiny outline of Eladin on a hilltop far off to the east. He thought longingly of the sweet aromas that would soon be wafting from the bakeries to serve the morning’s clients. He could almost picture shop owners slowly dragging in to open for the day, wiping counters, straightening shelves, and lighting their door lamps.

The soon turned north and began riding away from Eladin, and the city’s outline was soon out of his sight. He felt the cold chains of the armor against his chest underneath his Alldelan garb. Being unacquainted with the armor, it weighed on his shoulders intrusively, but he was grateful he had it.

Soft plumes of smoke soon came into view over the hills ahead of them. Gaden thought they must be getting close, for these surely were chimneys burning the ever-present morning chill away from the village. He wished he were back home sitting in front of his own fire, enjoying his wife’s cooking.

“Just over that rise!” Elric shouted over the wind. They were to meet with the village leader and liaison to Aelwynn known by the name Findhar. Gaden had never been to the village of Westerlyn but knew it to be a small place under the control and protection of Alldel. Indeed, Thale was disturbed to hear that the village had not requested aid. Findhar was one of Thale’s closest friends. Thale found this lack of communication disturbing.

They started their ascent up the nearest hill. A morning fog loomed at their ankles and Gaden could detect the smell of burning wood. They slowed their pace and approached the crest of the hill. Gaden looked out over the hill, expecting to see small houses, tiny cobbled streets, a community well, gardens, and perhaps a small group of people out for an early morning start.

But when they came to the top of the hill, and the first village structures came into view, Gaden felt his mouth drop involuntarily and his shoulder fell sympathetically. He saw no such thing. The smoke he had seen from a distance wasn’t smoke from simmering chimneys. The smell of wood burning wasn’t the sweet aroma of early morning firewood, nor were their neat houses, and tiny gardens, with a community well in the center of the cobbled streets. Nor, in fact, did there seem to be a village of Westerlyn – at least, not anymore.

The smoke was that of burning houses. Gaden saw what must have been a well at one time in the far eastern corner of the village, but its rigging had been torn down, smashed into the depths below. The gardens of the village had been uprooted and ravaged. Not one house was left standing. Their arrival in Westerlyn was nothing short of an entire day late. Wood beams and street posts lay in the streets littering the walkways. A few people congregated around a larger structure to the north trying desperately to stamp out the remaining flames.

But the worst of all, in Gaden’s mind at least, were all the bodies lying scattered on the earth below. There was no questioning that they were all dead. This was a brutal encounter. Death made no distinction between man and woman, nor between adult and child. Bodies of all ages littered the cold grass beneath them.

“Dismount,” Elric said darkly. He stepped down from his horse, slowly removed his helm, and cradled it under his left arm. Gaden and Avan repeated the gesture. Avan was looking down, scowling in disgust.

“Come quickly, these people need our help.” Elric gave the order, and then mumbled, “They needed our help about two days ago.” And then they descended toward Westerlyn. They strolled down the hill. Gaden could feel his heart pounding against his chest. A sort of sick plunged into his gut at the thought of living through the horror beneath him.

As they reached the bottom of the hill and started toward the city, a man dressed in Alldelan garb ran to meet them. As he approached, Gaden recognized the man as Daea’s father, Verrik, a field marshal. He was clearly exhausted. His eyes were sunken, and his face pale.

“You’ve no idea how glad I am to see you,” Verrik said through shortness of breath.

“What happened?” Elric asked.

“Ivar and I were on the way back from Lorlea, you know his son is still on bed rest, so I’m standing in for him. He saw the smoke and wanted to come to check it out, just to be sure. Good thing, too, I was ready to ignore it and move on. We crested the southern hill,” Verrik pointed behind him, “and about five, I don’t know, maybe six of those Rhodhinian beasts were trampling through the village, the ones we fought by the lake. We managed to run them off. I don’t think they wanted to pick a real fight, maybe they just wanted to cause trouble. But after they left, I sent Ivar to get help, and I stayed behind to see what I could do.”

“How bad is it?” Elric asked. Verrik snorted in disgust.

“Elric, these people are going to need some serious help. They lost everything, and I do mean everything.”

“Findhar?”

“Findhar is okay. He’s over there,” Verrik pointed to the large building that was still smoldering.

“I’ll go help,” Avan said and took off toward the burning structure.”

“I’ll go with Avan.” Gaden started to say, but Elric held out his arm.

“No, I want you with me. Verrik, you need rest. Go back. Tell Thale to send Garrin and some footmen back with a fleet of horses and carts. Have them send a building crew, food, and clothes. I want you to stay back and rest.”

“I can’t do that, Elric, you need as many…”

“You have your orders. I expect you to carry them out as given.” There was a moment’s hesitation from Verrik.

“Yes, sir,” he nodded.

“Gaden, come with me.” They nodded once more to Verrik and then walked down the debris-strewn cobbled street. Gaden saw what looked like a child’s stuffed animal lying on the street covered in mud and split down the side. He scooped it up into his hand and tried to remove the dirt. They passed a cart, in which lay several damaged items that had been recovered. He placed the animal gently on top of the pile.

“What will we do?” Gaden asked.

“There’s nothing we can do at this point, except to help them rebuild.” A dirty, but well-dressed man approached them from a distance. In his hand was a garden hoe. He stretched out a hand and greeted Elric.

“Thank you for coming, my friend.” Gaden could only assume this was Findhar, the village leader.

“If only we had known, we would have been here sooner. Why didn’t you send word?”

“Our courier was killed almost immediately. After that, we were all too busy trying to run them off, to get word sent. When we saw your scout team ride up, we decided to stay. We knew they would send word for us.”

“Was anything spared?” Elric asked. But Gaden knew what the answer must be.

“Nothing. Our homes are destroyed, and our fields are stamped.” Elric shook his head.

“Why would they do that? I mean what’s to be gained by attacking a village like this?” Gaden asked.

“More than likely it’s a distraction. They attack a village like Westerlyn, knowing Alldel will send aid, and then while Alldel is busy helping Westerlyn, they attack the capital.”

“Well, I’m grateful you came, anyway. We can’t move all of this on our own. We’re just a small farming village.”

“Of course,” Elric said. “Gaden, go see if you can lend Avan a hand. Let’s get the old, ruined materials out of the way. Maybe by the time we get a building crew in here, we will have brought some order to the village.” Gaden nodded and directed his step toward Avan, who was over by the large structure that was burning only a few moments ago.

On the side of the ruined street was a man, crippled and old. He sat on the bare grass, shirtless and shivering in the cold morning wind. Gaden stopped. He removed his Alldelan coat and placed it around the man’s shoulders.

“Here you go, take this,” he said to the man. The man held up a time-worn, trembling hand as if to touch Gaden’s shoulder.

“Bless you, young man. Bless you.” His voice shook to the same tempo as the trembling of his hand.

“Elric!” Gaden yelled across the way. “Elric, we need to get these people back to Alldel for medical care.” Elric nodded at him. Gaden walked away, dressed only in his scarlet over-shirt. Fine strands of chainmail poked out from beneath its short sleeves.

“Rhodhinia will pay,” he mumbled coldly as he walked away. He approached Avan, who turned with a look of relief.

“I’m glad dad turned you loose. We need you. Grab the other side of that beam there, let’s take it to the burn pile across from the well.” Avan pointed to a small, but growing pile of old wood.

“Right,” Gaden said, and he grabbed the other end of a long, waterlogged four-by-four. They heaved the beam with difficulty to shoulder height and Gaden placed it on his shoulder for support. He led the way, and then they tossed the beam onto the pile. This process was repeated for several minutes until Avan called back to Gaden.

“Gaden, quickly! There’s a boy under here!” Gaden ran to Avan’s side. Underneath a large pile of crossbeams and rubble lay a boy no older than twelve.

“Quick, start moving these beams.” Gaden began grabbing each beam, barehanded, and flipping them over, off the little boy. They dug until they hit the bottom of the pile, where lay a beam too heavy to lift. Avan looked over his shoulder and shouted to a young man carrying some old tools.

“You, there! Come quickly!” The man dropped his tools and came to help. “We’re going to lift this beam. You grab the boy. You’ll have to move quickly.” The man nodded. “Okay, Gaden. On three.” Avan counted, and as he shouted, “Three!” They lifted with all their might. Gaden could feel the blood pounding through his head. His sides were screaming with agony, the wood splintering his fingers, but he knew he mustn’t let go.

The other man reached in and grabbed the little boy just as the beams slid through Avan’s exhausted fingers. Gaden lurched forward from the weight of the beam as Avan dropped it, but let go just in time. Blood oozed from the gashes etched in his hands.

“Gaden, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t hold on to it. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” Gaden said, pulling a couple of wood chips from his fingers.

“Here,” Avan pulled a rag from his jacket pocket. “I’ve got another. Tie that around your hands,” he tore the rag in two and passed it to Gaden, who wrapped his hands.

For what seemed like hours, they continued to gather loose rubble and toss it aside. The bandages on Gaden’s hands grew more and more ragged as he worked. Gaden eventually moved on to a different structure. He moved boards and other trash to the burn piles as he had done all day. This building must have been a library because many books littered the ground.

And then Gaden froze. Under a small pile of shelves that had collapsed, and lying face down was a crumpled and rotten body. At first, he wasn’t sure what the body was. But then, to his horror, he discovered it was human. But how long had it been there? This wasn’t only a day or two of decay. This person had been dead for years. Did someone know? Gaden lifted the shelves off the man’s back and rolled him over. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He had jagged teeth which protruded carelessly from his mouth. He wore a gray helmet, under which was a blanket of chain covering his neck.

Gaden cleared the rubble from the rest of his body. In a gloved left hand was clenched a tight roll of paper. Gaden tried to pry it from the man’s hand, but it was wedged so tightly, he wasn’t sure he could free it without tearing it. Gaden turned his head.

“Elric! I think you’ll want to come and take a look at this.”

… has been attempted as of yet. The alchemists tell us that we will not be able to attempt any repair without the assistance of the original maker, which will pose a problem for us since we are currently pretending not to exist. King Wystan of Alldel would be able to supply us with what we need to make our repairs, but our leader has not decided whether or not to divulge our whereabouts to enlist the help of Alldel or to leave the staff as it is now. In any case, we will have to have blood from the heir’s family line to be able to restore the staff to its original power, and rumor has it that the King of Alldel was killed a few nights ago. So, the decision of our leaders really has no meaning to us at this point, at least until kingdom come. As for Seevus, the three beasts he controls seem to be invincible. No attempt to stop them has rendered any useful results. Their transparent wings are sharp enough to destroy even the hardest stone. We have lost many lives to the beasts. They seem connected somehow to the three mythical stones of Rhodhinia, Alldel, and Lorlea. All we can do is hope that Alldel has the situation under control. Amos of Soceria seems as reluctant to discuss his knowledge of the beasts, as he is about discussing the Staff of Soceria. I fear he has a role to play in this that only time can reveal. I can only hope that such a revelation will not prove to be a timely misfortune. I do not know when this record will be discovered, and who will be reading it. I can only hope that the information I am divulging will be in time to bring positive change to the world. These demons have taken from us all that we hold dear. We once were relieved to hear that the great King of Soceria was to join us. I now have reason to suspect that it was a black day for all. King Amos must be contested. The halls of the Socerian alchemists in Armon Drael, hide secrets darker than any hall of Rhodhinia. The only thing that is sure to me is that I will be dead long before this record is received.

The page was torn off under the last line. Gaden wondered if there was more. Elric heaved a heavy sigh. He looked up and handed the note to Avan, who had just joined them, along with the village leader, Findhar. As Avan and Findhar read the letter, their expressions changed quickly from curiosity to disbelief.

“Not Amos…” Findhar said, handing the letter back to Elric.

“How many other six-hundred-year-old kings do you know?”

“So, what next?” Gaden asked. Avan looked at his father, who sighed again.

“We’re Alldelan scouts. I think it’s time we do our job,” he said.

“And Thale?” Gaden asked.

“We will have to confront him, he needs to know.”

“Are you suggesting we scout Lorlea or Soceria?” Avan asked.

“Soceria,” Gaden said, without hesitation. They both looked at him.

“Where else? Nobody in Lorlea is old enough to have been alive when this was written. But Soceria…” Gaden paused, and tapped Amos’ name with his finger, “King Amos is still alive.” Elric nodded.

“I’m about to commit a direct transgression of our authority. If you wish to stay here, I will not object,” Elric said, and looked at each of them, but neither Avan nor Gaden objected to Elric’s proposal.

“Gaden, if you have any way of communicating with Adric that is, as yet, unknown to anybody, now would be an excellent time to take advantage of it.” Gaden never asked how Elric seemed to know, but the whisper stone in his pocket became unusually heavy as Elric turned his back to them and called for their horses.

“We’ll need food for the journey. Soceria is many days away by foot.”

“There may yet be some rations in our stores. I’ll pack what I can in a bag and meet you back here.” Findhar turned and ran for the center of town.

“Avan, Findhar needs a horse.” Elric pointed to a stable house somewhere behind Avan’s shoulder. And while Elric and Avan each had their backs turned, Gaden reached into his pocket and pulled out the whisper stone.