A Realm of Shadows (13 page)

Now she craved
it.

Aidan galloped
across the barren landscape, Anvin beside him, White at their heels, sweating, the
sun bearing down on them. He gasped for air, the dust in his face making it
hard to breathe. Somewhere on the horizon, he knew, was Leptus, and as
exhausted as he was, he forced himself to hang in there, to not show any
weakness, especially in front of Anvin. They had been riding for hours, not
even pausing to take a break since they had left his father and his men back
outside Andros, and Aidan was determined not to let them down. He wanted Anvin
to think of him as a man now.

As they rode, Aidan
was filled with a sense of pride, and of urgency. This, he knew, was the most
important mission of his life, and he was thrilled his father had allowed it.
He knew the stakes could not be higher: If he and Anvin failed, if the men of Leptus
refused to join in the battle against Baris, his father and his men would
certainly die.

That gave him
strength. Aidan ignored his pain, his exhaustion, his hunger, the heat of the
sun, and rode on and on, taking strength from Anvin beside him, who, despite being
wounded, despite his heavy armor, never slowed once. On the contrary, Anvin
rode with an erect posture, the very embodiment of selflessness and valor.

They rode and
rode, the sound of the horses thundering in Aidan’s ears, the sun arcing in the
sky, the afternoon shadows growing stronger. Aidan was convinced that they
would never reach Leptus.

And then, suddenly
they crested a hill, and the landscape began to shift. The rock and desert, the
endless rows of tumbleweed, began to give way to soil, to grass, to trees; the
endless flat monotony gave way, on the horizon, to shapes, to structures. They
soon passed an occasional clay dwelling, and then these became more and more
frequent, packed more densely together. And soon, in the landscape, there
appeared a road—and this road, Aidan saw with delight and relief, led to a
stronghold.

Aidan was
impressed to see a medium-size city perched at the edge of the desert, nestled along
the shores of the Bay of Death. He held up a hand and squinted, the glare so
strong off the glistening waters behind it.

Leptus. They had
made it.

Leptus was a
minor city, he knew, in the southern reaches of Escalon, the southernmost city on
this side of Everfall. South of Baris but north of Thebus, Leptus was known as
the last real city of the south. It was so out of the way, here in this arid
landscape, so far from anywhere, it was known as a hard place, an outpost, a
place of separatists. It lacked the lush, verdant rolling hills of most of
Escalon, and being here in this hard place, sandwiched between the desert and
Everfall and the Bay of Death, made Aidan glad that he had been raised in
Volis.

Yet ironically,
this small stronghold, so far from all the major trade routes and roads, so
hard to get to, had become the last holdout for the free men of Escalon. Here
resided the last free warriors, the only men left whom the Pandesian invasion
had not yet reached. Of course, Aidan knew, it was only because of their
geography, and soon enough, that would change. Yet for now, it made these men
of Leptus the last people his father could turn to for help.

They continued
down the road for the city, and soon Aidan found himself riding over a small, stone
bridge, crossing an inlet of the Bay of Death, black waters swirling beneath
them. They rode on, Aidan’s heart pounding with excitement, until they finally
reached a large, arched stone gate, its iron portcullis lowered, and a dozen
fierce warriors standing before it. They stood at perfect attention, wielding
long halberds and looking straight ahead, wearing the same blue and white armor
of their city’s banner flying overhead.

Finally, Aidan
and Anvin came to a stop before them, White at their feet, all breathing hard.
Aidan wiped the dust off his face from the long ride.

The lead soldier,
a tall, broad-shouldered man with a scar running down his right cheek, stepped
forward and peered out at them.

“State your
name,” he demanded.

“Anvin,” Anvin
replied breathlessly, “of Volis. Duncan’s commander. Here with me is Aidan, his
son.”

The man nodded
back, cold and hard.

“And I am
Leifall,” he replied. “What business you have in Leptus?”

Anvin took a
deep breath.

“We are men of
Escalon,” Anvin called back, breathing hard, “and have come on urgent business.
Open these gates at once and bring us to your commander.”

Leifall stared
back, unmoved.

“What business?”
he demanded.

“The fate of
Escalon,” Anvin called back.

Yet still, Leifall
did not step aside.

“Who sent you?” he
demanded.

“Duncan of
Volis,” Anvin replied.

Leifall, with
his elongated face and the narrow eyes of the people of the south, slowly
rubbed his brown beard.

“First I must
know: what is your business here?” he asked, his voice still hard.

“Bring me to be
your commander, and I will tell him myself,” Anvin called back, impatient.

Leifall stared
back, hard, unmoving.

“
I
am the
commander here,” he said.

They stared back
in surprise.

“
You?
”
Anvin said. “Why would a commander be guarding a gate?”

The commander
stared back, hard and cold.

“
He who leads
must stand first in peril.
That is our motto,” he replied. “Where else
should a commander be?” he called back. “The people of Leptus are a democratic
people. I ask nothing of them I would not do myself. I stand with my men, and
they with me. That is what makes us who we are.”

He examined Anvin,
while Aidan looked back at him with a whole new sense of respect.

“So I ask you
again: what do you want of the men of Leptus?” Leifall called out.

Anvin dismounted,
Aidan following his lead, relieved to be off the horse, and as they did, all
the soldiers tensed, gripping their halberds as if to strike. The commander
gestured to his men and they lowered their weapons, while White, snarling, came
up beside Aidan, as if to defend him. Aidan stroked his head, putting him at
ease.

Stopping a few
feet away from the commander, Anvin spoke, his voice urgent.

“Our great
country has been overrun,” he said. “Perhaps you have not noticed because you
reside here, out of the way from the rest of us. Pandesia has invaded. Escalon
has fallen—all of it except for your little corner. Soon enough, they will
march on Leptus, too.”

Leifall looked
back, skeptical, hardened, his eyes widening just a bit in surprise as he
slowly rubbed his beard.

“Go on,” he
finally replied.

“Duncan rides for Baris now,” Anvin continued. “He needs to destroy those who betrayed us, and
to lure the Pandesians into the canyon. He needs your help.”

The commander stroked
his beard for a long time as he stood there, seemingly deep in thought,
studying Anvin.

“And why should
we help you?” he finally asked.

“Why?” Anvin
asked, surprised. “Is not our cause your cause? Do we not share a homeland? A
common invader?”

Leifall shook
his head.

“Since when have
you come to Leptus?” he replied. “And since when have we ventured to Volis? We
may live on the same land, but we are different people, from different corners
of a land, who merely share a capital.”

Anvin narrowed
his eyes.

“Is that the way
of the men of Leptus then?” he asked. “To isolate themselves? To ignore their
brothers in their time of need?”

Leifall reddened.

“You are no
brother to me,” he replied, his jaw locked. “Why should I risk my men to save this
Duncan, this commander whom I have never met? Who has never bothered to pay
homage to us once?”

Anvin frowned.

“He would help
you if you came to him,” he replied.

“Perhaps,” the
commander replied. “And perhaps not.”

Anvin frowned,
clearly frustrated.

“You would also
be helping yourselves,” he replied, “if that is all that matters. Do not think you
will be spared by Pandesia.”

Leifall shrugged,
unimpressed.

“We have our own
defenses,” he replied. “We can fight on our own terms, and last much longer
than you think. No one has ever taken these walls. And we have an escape route
on the Bay of Death. We are protected on both sides. This is why Leptus has never
been taken.”

“Do not flatter
yourselves,” Anvin countered, clearly upset. “Leptus has never been taken
because you are so far out of the way, and because there is nothing of worth
here.”

Leifall scowled,
and Aidan could feel the exchange quickly deteriorating.

“Call it what
you will,” the commander replied, “yet we are free and you are not.”

“For now,” Anvin
replied.

Leifall breathed
for a long time, seething, until finally he continued.

“Duncan’s taking Baris is a poor strategy,” he added. “No one takes the low ground. It is a
death trap.”

Anvin was
undeterred.

“It is the best
place to take shelter from the capital,” he replied. “Andros is burning. The
Pandesians are unfamiliar with Baris, and we can use the canyon to our
advantage.”

Leifall looked
out into the distance, and after a long time, he sighed.

“Perhaps,” he
finally said. “Still, the men of Leptus would be better served fighting Pandesia
here, on our own ground, with our own defenses, and with our backs to the Bay of Death. My job is to protect my people, not yours.”

Anvin scowled.

“Are we not the
same people?” he asked.

Leifall did not
respond.

Anvin’s face
hardened.

“Our people need
you,” Anvin pressed. “Not here, behind your gates. But in the open field, where
the battle is being fought.”

Leifall shook
his head.

“This is
your
war,” he replied. “Is this not the revolution I have heard so much of, the one sparked
by Duncan’s daughter? The one who was playing with dragons?”

At the mention
of his sister, Aidan felt a burning need to speak up, unable to quiet himself
any longer.

“That is
my
sister you speak of,” he called out, indignant, defensive. “And she only sparked
the war that the rest of you were afraid to—the war that would stop us all from
living as slaves, that would finally give us freedom.”

Leifall scowled
as he slowly turned to Aidan.

“Watch your
tongue, boy. You’re not so young that I won’t put you in lashes.”

Aidan stood his
ground, feeling that this was his only chance to fight for his father.

“I will not,” he
said proudly, sticking out his chest. “I am Duncan’s son. And I will tolerate
no such speech of you. My father may be dying out there, and you are standing
here, wasting time and words. Are you a warrior or not?”

Leifall’s eyes
widened in shock as he stared back at Aidan.

A long, tense
silence followed, until finally, the commander took one step toward him.

“You are a fresh
one, aren’t you?” He stared Aidan down, and Aidan stood there, feeling a rush
of nervousness. Slowly, the commander rubbed his beard. “Yet you stand up for
your father. I like that,” he said, surprising Aidan. “I wish my own sons were
half as bold as you.”

Aidan felt a
rush of relief as the commander studied him. He felt that this was his chance
to make his case and influence the destiny of his people.

“I asked my
father to send me on this mission,” Aidan replied, “because I thought you and
your men would follow us, that you and your men were valorous. Does valor mean
hiding behind a gate? Waiting for an enemy to come to you? Taking the safe
route?”

Aidan took a deep
breath, summoning all his courage, even though, deep inside, he was trembling.

“You can come and
join my father in the greatest battle in history, in the greatest cause of your
lives,” Aidan said, “or you can stay here, hiding behind your gates, doing what
boys do. Not what men do. Whatever you choose, I will leave this place and turn
back and defend my father alone.”

Leifall stared
back for a long time, reddening, then finally shook his head.

“The better part
of valor, boy, is knowing when to fight and where. Your father’s tactics are
foolish.”

“My father freed
all of Escalon before the Pandesians invaded.”

“And where is he
now? Asking for our help!”

“He asks for no
man’s help!” Aidan retorted indignantly. “He is offering you a
gift.
”

Leifall scoffed.

“A gift!”