Aegis of The Gods: Book 00 - The Shadowbearer (5 page)

In this section of the Travelshaft, the glow was much brighter, like early afternoon suffused by a light mist. Even after all these years, he still marveled that no lamps or lightstones produced the effect. The luminescence simply existed. The air rushed by in a steady swish, a gentle breeze against his face, the one thing louder than his or his horse’s breaths.

The channels stretched on, but for all the light within the Travelshaft’s confines, Stefan couldn’t see more than thirty feet ahead. The walls lining either side were an unchanging gray and black mass. Occasionally, another channel intersected the main ones, leading off to a city or town. The journey continued this way, almost devoid of time’s passage, one steady flow where he stood still while the rest of the world moved around him.

As they made their way in silence, they encountered several convoys passing on the other channels. Most consisted of soldiers escorting wagons and supplies, while others were merchants and their guard contingents. No one used the Travelshafts without protection. Not with the Svenzar raiding them at will.

“Stay on guard,” Stefan shouted to Kasimir and Garrick. “The way things have been going the past few days, it would only be fitting if we encounter the Svenzar here.”

Before they were able to pass the word, the ground lurched. Ahead, a wave of earth flowed in an undulating mass from the rocky walls. The movement came to an abrupt stop in the open space between their channel and the outer one. Then dirt and rock spewed upward.

“Svenzar!” Stefan yelled. “Take positions.” Eyes fixed on the creature he leapt from his mount and snatched his bow from below the saddle.

A head the size of a wagonbed formed. The ground continued to flow up, pushing the head higher and higher until it stood upon a mass of stone well over twenty–feet in height.

Arrow nocked, Stefan aimed for where he expected the eyes to appear.

The Svenzar’s stoneform body continued to grow. The ground rumbled and the chamber shook as the being created itself from the earth. Different colors of sediment layered its body, accompanied by metallic glints. Rigid, square shoulders formed, quickly followed by muscled arms a dozen or more feet across. Fingers clenched and unclenched. The wide chest matched the head in proportion. A hollow boom echoed as the rest of the Svenzar from the abdomen down hewed itself from the dirt, stone, and metal in one motion that ended with its feet appearing. Debris showered the channel.

The ground rumbled again, and smaller waves, hundreds in all, appeared within the cavernous Travelshaft. They grew along the walls. Pebbles, small rocks, and dirt rained down. Stefan cast his gaze up to the roof high above them. There, the humps in the stone existed also.

Mouth agape, he stared as the humps formed into smaller versions of the Svenzar—their young counterparts, the Sven. They inhabited the walls, standing sideways or hanging upside down from the roof like bats made of stone.

Stefan raised a hand to signal to his men. They knew to fire as soon as the creatures opened their eyes. He focused on the Svenzar.

The Svenzar’s eyes did not open. A voice like musical notes put to speech but at the same time, a basso rumble, said, “Put away your weapons, Knight Commander Dorn. We seek an audience.”

C
HAPTER 5

H
ow, in all that’s righteous, does the creature know my name?
Stefan wondered

“Don’t trust them,” Garrick cautioned as he stepped up next to Stefan, his bow drawn, fletching to ear.

“Look around us, Garrick.” Stefan lowered his bow. “Even if we wanted to try hold out until the infantry and the scorpios arrived, we couldn’t. Not without Alzari or Ashishin.”

“What if they decided to take you?” Kasimir’s weapon still pointed at the stoneform creatures.

“We wouldn’t be able to stop them if that was their wish.”

“I hate being helpless,” Garrick said.

Stefan nodded. “Me too. Me too.” He raised his voice. “Men, lower your weapons.” Exhalations and the creak of strained wood easing on either side of him confirmed Kasimir and Garrick followed the order. Stefan glanced behind to make sure the rest of the cavalry complied, and then he faced the Svenzar once more. Fissures and cracks were appearing on the creature’s body in patterns he couldn’t quite place. “Svenzar, how do we do this?”

Stony chips fell away from the Svenzar’s eyes as they opened to reveal emerald pools. The eyes reminded Stefan of his own. “I wish to speak to you alone, Knight Commander Dorn. Come to me. Leave your men behind.”

“How do I know you don’t mean me harm?”

“You do not.”

“I’m supposed to trust such an answer?”

Voice tinkling in those musical notes, the Svenzar gave what sounded like a chuckle, “What choice do you have?” The Svenzar gestured a massive rocky hand to the Sven surrounding Stefan’s men. “Our young are more than enough to handle your men. Within the stone, we hold power. All you see here is ours to do with as we will.”

As if in emphasis, the creature waved its hand, and the ground shook. Walls grew from the earth, spouting up until they blocked off any possible retreat. For the first time Stefan also noted the sense of motion that persisted inside the Travelshafts had come to a complete stop. The sensation was as if the entire world paused and waited for a command.

“Point taken,” Stefan said aloud. Under his breath he said, “Should they do anything to me, fight to the death.”

“Yes, sir,” both men replied solemnly.

Stefan exhaled, let his bow drop to the ground, and strode forward. He refused to unsheathe his sword. A measure of command was necessary. Feet crunching on smaller portions of rubble, he picked his way through the rock chips and debris littering the floor until he found a clear path along the metal tracks. As he strode to the Svenzar, he kept his back straight, his chest out and paced himself with an easy grace. In this situation, he would show no fear.

When he drew within a dozen feet of the creature, Stefan realized the fissures and cracks on its body
did
form lines and patterns. In fact, they appeared to be more like tattoos. He strained his eyes and was able to pick out images of men, creatures he’d never seen before, landscapes, scenes of great battles, and sparkling celestial bodies. The intricacy of the artwork made him gasp. Even the murals along the walls in the Royal Palace paled by comparison. This was the first time he ever witnessed such a vibrant tapestry.

“I have watched you and your people for years.” The Svenzar’s voice was softer now, more musical than before, and conversational.

Stefan stopped. The Svenzar’s stoneform body stretched so high Stefan needed to crane his neck to peer into its face. Up close, the tattoos wormed and shifted. They gave off the impression the men and creatures watched his every move. “Why?”

The Svenzar chuckled. “So impatient your race is. You often want answers to questions you already know and to those well beyond you. It must be a trait of having a shorter life span.”

“If I knew the answer I wouldn’t ask.”

With a sigh that drifted upon the windless air, the creature said, “I have monitored you because you shape the future. Your decisions and choices affect all around you.”

“Isn’t that the same for everyone?” Stefan frowned. The conversation somehow felt off, a little odd.

“Yes, but for your kind more so than any other. Look at what your conquering of Ostanian lands has done. In Granadia you have changed the life patterns of countless millions.”

“I almost get the sense you aren’t pleased,” Stefan said.

“Upheaval, instability, fates in constant change ….” The Svenzar cocked its head. Boulders fell from its face in a rumble, but when they struck the shoulders and chest, they clung as if snagged in mud and were absorbed into its body. “I would not say I am not pleased … more … concerned. Such events take thousands of years to occur among the Svenzar. For you, it takes hundreds.”

Stefan shrugged. “So is this the reason you hindered my passage? To inquire about my race and how we live?”

“No. I am here to give you a choice to change the course your people are set upon.”

“My people? The Setian?”

“Who else could I mean?”

“I’m not sure. For a moment there I got the strange sense you meant all of Denestia.”

The Svenzar smiled, mouth a maw of jagged stone teeth.

“So what’s this choice,” Stefan asked. “My people’s future has never been brighter.” He focused on the creatures eyes, trying his best not to cringe as the mouth eased shut.

“I would disagree about the future, but arguing is pointless. We need you to serve the Svenzar. In so doing you serve your people.”

Stefan gave a cynical chuckle. He shook his head at the absurdity of the Svenzar’s statement. “Even if I considered such a thing … not that I am … why would I want to serve you?” He brought his hand up with the thumb and forefinger almost touching. “We were this close to defeating you and the Harnan.”

“If that is what you believe.” Again, the creature gave a jagged smile. “Your choices here may doom your people.”

“Really? How so?”

“Power seeping into the world from the Nether. Unstable Mater … well, at least for your kind it is unstable. I am sure you have encountered such already.”

“The same Nether where the gods are supposed to be imprisoned?” Stefan tilted his head as he regarded the creature.

“Yes. The very same one.” The Svenzar frowned. “You do not believe in the gods?”

Stefan raised his brows. “Of course I do. I have seen enough to believe they exist. I simply doubt their ability to affect anything in this world.”

“A shame,” the Svenzar said. “You have seen their power at work. A young Matii and several others are now dead because of it. Choosing to serve us can help prevent some of what is to come.”

Stefan kept his face smooth to hide his shock at the Svenzar’s knowledge. “Tell me, Svenzar—”

“Call me Kalvor.”

“Tell me, Kalvor, why did you choose me for this news or this offer?”

“Because that is the way of things. The fate of your people rests with you. It is a chance before a step is made from which there is no return.”

“What if I refuse?”

“Your people are doomed.”

“As simple as that?”

“Like death, most things are simple.”

The statement sent a chill through Stefan’s spine. The words were eerily similar to those Nerian often uttered. “Who or what will bring this doom?”

“Your own and the shade,” Kalvor said.

Lips curling, Stefan resisted the urge to reach for his sword. He took a moment to calm himself before he replied. “My people are more unified now than they have been in ages. As for the shade … we defeated them before … we can do so again. This,” he pointed at the Svenzar and the hundreds of Sven, “show of strength feels like a general laying out an army before an enemy in an attempt to instill fear.” He tilted his head slowly until his gaze met the Svenzar’s eyes. “There is little for the Setian to fear from you or any others. I won’t betray my people to serve you. In fact, we will conquer you and the Harnan.”

“So be it,” the Svenzar said, his voice once again a basso rumble. “Let it be known the choice was given and refused.”

With those words, the walls shook. The stones and dirt covering the floor rushed toward Kalvor. As they touched the Svenzar, they became one. Kalvor’s body began to melt, taking on the appearance of thick mud as it slid to the ground. Around the walls and the roof, the Sven once more became humps of earth. When the process completed, no traces of their presence remained.

Jaw unhinged Stefan stared all around, fully expecting the creatures to reappear again, but nothing happened. Finally, he turned and headed toward his men, his mind swirling with all the Svenzar had said. What did Kalvor mean by the fate of his people rested with him? That by choosing not to serve he had doomed the Setian? It was as if the creature was revealing some distant future. Stefan dismissed the thought. More likely, the Svenzar and the Harnan had an abundance of forces at their disposal no one expected. This was too close to the odd happenings with King Nerian. If the King did intend to resume the old campaign in the Nevermore Heights against the two peoples, he might be walking into a slaughter. Nerain needed to be warned.
With news of this encounter, I can save my men after all.

“What did the beast want?” Kasimir asked.

Stefan relayed much of what the Svenzar requested.

“Serve them?” Garrick snorted. “We had them beat if the Tribunal’s Ashishin hadn’t refused to help our Matii.”

Even as he nodded his agreement, Stefan gazed at the area where moments before hundreds of Sven and a Svenzar had been. Not a stone appeared out of place.
Were we really close to winning?

“So what now?” Kasimir held out the reins to Stefan’s horse.

“We go home,” answered the Knight Commander as he took them. He swung up into his saddle and set off at a trot. He was so preoccupied with all the occurrences of the last few days he almost spewed the contents of his stomach when the Travelshaft’s speed altering effect restarted.

The remainder of the trip was uneventful, the monotony of the channels broken only by the occasional merchants or soldiers on another path. The first gong to warn them they had entered the arrival area broke him from his pondering. Ahead, the exit’s white light beckoned. Taking a deep breath, he plunged into the glow.

Instead of feeling as if it slowed upon entering, the horse exited already at maximum speed along the roadway. The sensation from a steady, almost leisurely pace to the sudden blur of movement brought a rush of bile to Stefan’s throat. He bit back on the sensation, squeezing his eyes tight. The effect lasted little more than a few moments but seemed to stretch on forever. The easing of the pressure on his stomach was a welcome relief.

Slowly, elongated shapes outside resolved into people, fortifications, wagons, coaches, and animals. Colors that once bled became solid. Here, the green of cohorts marching down lanes between the three roadways, there, the many shades and differing styles of clothing worn by the Setian and other peoples who were congregating for arrivals or departures. Large and small buildings lined the roads. The cacophony of several thousand conversations in a myriad of tongues as well as the trundle of wheels and clang of smithies resounded. The activity reminded him of a hive—roiling yet organized.

The arrival in Benez chased away his other thoughts. His only wish was to see his wife again. All else could wait.