Cyrion (7 page)

“It’s important to stay loyal to friends…”

“But far
more important to stay loyal to your family. You’ve only been friends for a few days. How much loyalty, if any, do you owe her?” D’hibuk rested his club on the ground.

Saul studied the goblin, his brows furrowed in concentration. As if considering what the goblin officer said and trying to come up with a price.

Light leather armor, unhardened. My axe can cut through that like butter
.

“How much?” Saul asked as he walked towards the goblin, casually dragging his axe on the ground behind him. The weapon left a shallow groove as it cut across the leaf laden forest floor.

“Well,” D’hibuk said. He reached for his pouches, a satisfied smile on his tusked face.

Must wait. Need to be closer. Catch him off-guard.

D’hibuk took his eyes off Saul for a split-second.

Now!

Saul swung his axe with as much force as he could muster in his right arm. The axe sliced through the goblin’s light armor and stuck in his ribcage at an upward angle.

D’hibuk shrieked in pain and surprise. He swung his club at Saul.

Too late.

Saul raised his left arm to block the blow while shaking his axe free from D’hibuk’s ribs. D’hibuk screamed in renewed agony. Saul’s left arm turned numb from the slam of the club, useless.

But his axe was free.

Saul hacked again, one-handed. The axe bit deeply into D’hibuk’s shoulder, close to the neck. D’hibuk dropped his club, fruitlessly trying to stanch the flow of blood from his wounds with his hands.

A red mist crept across Saul’s eyes. He raised his axe and swung down again, and again, and again.

“Son, you can stop now. It’s over.”

Saul felt a warm, familiar hand grip his shoulder. The red mist receded from his vision. Saul gladly dropped his bloodied axe and, weeping, buried his face in the warm, comforting expanse of his father’s broad chest.

TO LINWOOD

Geoff surveyed the ruins of the goblins’ camp, careful to keep his face expressionless. Logan was patting down the last clump of dirt over the last grave. Karin ducked into what used to be the goblin captain’s tent to check on the children.
And to check on the cyrion. Let’s not forget her
. Arti was stirring a pot of who-knows-what, made with ingredients salvaged from who-knows-where, over the resurrected remains of the goblins’ campfire. Not very many Outpost civilians survived the rescue attempt at dawn. Not the adults, at any rate.

Geoff focused on his son, Saul.
They shouldn’t have meddled.
Jon gathered more fuel, as per his mother’s directions
.
True to form, instead of helping in some way, Saul was gamboling around and chattering to Jon like a demented loon. Geoff forced himself to turn away, lips pressed tight in a bitter smile of disappointment.
Too hard? Karin always said I was too hard on the boy. If only this were true. I fear I’m not hard enough
. Geoff rubbed his hand, calloused from fourteen years of smithing, over his stubbled face and heaved a sigh of frustration.

Assigned duties completed and the meal cooked to Arti’s satisfaction, they all gathered around the resurrected campfire. Arti spooned pottage into chipped bowls. Logan distributed the steaming bowls and gave Arti a peck, oblivious to the streaks of dried goblin blood on her cheek. His own bowl in hand, Logan joined the rest of them. He sat cross-legged beside the fire to eat. Geoff’s eyes rested briefly on his son. Saul had grabbed the bowl handed to him and slurped without even waiting for a spoon.

Foolish, ill-mannered boy.

After a while, Logan put his spoon into his empty bowl. “We’ve let you down. You boys shouldn’t have been forced to mount a rescue.” He set his emptied bowl aside. “We tried to keep you out. We told you to stay put.”

Saul turned to Karin. “Mum, will Anya be all right?”

“Is that her name?” Karin picked twigs off Saul’s hair. “She has a small bump on her head, but she seems fine. Only tired. Like you two little cubs.”

Arti smiled and tweaked her son’s cheek.

“Mum…” Jon frowned and twisted away from Arti in protest.

The cyrion again.
Geoff put his emptied bowl on the trampled summer grass.
No sense wasting time on her. We all know how this must end. I need to redirect this.
“Time is short. Ask your questions now.”

Saul glared at them with accusation. “If you could fight so well, why did you let the goblins take you? How did you even learn to fight?”

“Yeah.” Jon hurried to set down his still half-full bowl. “And how come the inn didn’t burn? Also, why did Anya say our weapons are magic? And you said The Slayer can do other things. Things like what?”

Geoff studied Saul, keeping his face impassive and trying hard to fight the bitter disappointment welling inside.
A foolish boy, asking foolish questions.

“We’re going to have to tell them at some point.” Karin tousled Saul’s sun-lit blond hair. “I can hear Naeem bellowing for a report already. Plus, our cover’s completely blown.”

“But make them work for it.” Arti leaned back on her elbows and stretched out her legs, amused expectation on her face. “Make this fun, Geoff. Give them something to start with, and see how far they can go.”

Geoff spotted the twinkle of pride in Arti’s coffee-brown eyes as she watched Jon. He glanced at Saul with a twinge of doubt.
Perhaps I expect too much of him, too fast?
He cleared his throat. “Tell me lads, have you ever heard of the Watchers?”

“Anya asked us if you were Watchers.” Saul paused for a moment, studying the grumps’ faces. “You are, aren’t you?” He turned to his mother. “Mum, what are Watchers?”

Geoff bit his lip and stifled the urge to sigh. Karin had asked him to be easier on Saul, and he could never deny his wife anything. “This is as far as you can go?” Geoff kept his voice flat and the expression on his face inscrutable.

“You said your cover is blown.” Jon nodded at Karin. “Which must mean regular people don’t realize you’re Watchers. And you said someone’s going to be bellowing for a report? Which means there are others. Superiors?”

“Go on,” Logan said. “Try using those deductions to answer your own questions.”

“This must be why you can fight so well,” Saul said. “But why did you let the goblins take you?”

Geoff glanced at his squad. They kept silent, expectant expressions wreathed on their faces.

Saul’s eyes widened in horrified realization. “You didn’t want to risk the others. Or you wanted to find out where they’d take you, and figure out what their plans were. We messed up your plan, didn’t we? I’m sorry.”

“No, lad,” Logan said, his voice somber. “I think we found out what they wanted. As things turned out, we couldn’t keep most of the civilians safe anyway.” Regret crossed Logan’s face as he turned to the row of freshly made graves, which lined one side of the campsite.

“Oh,” Saul said. “So that’s why you made us do all those crazy things.”

Karin smiled and straightened Saul’s collar. “What crazy things?”

“Like dropping us down the well,” Saul said, his eyebrow arched.

Arti snorted. “Dropped? We let you use the ladder.”

“And left us in the middle of the forest.” Jon’s voice rose with accusation.

Logan flapped his hand in dismissal. “Hardly right in the middle. You were within a day’s hike of the Outpost.”

“But we took two days to even get to the campsite,” Saul said.

Geoff shot an amused look at Logan. “We took the scenic route.”

“It took us three days to find our way back,” Jon said.

“You took an even
more
scenic route?” Logan arched his eyebrows.

“All the magic we’ve encountered,” Jon said. “The wards on the Inn and on our weapons. You were responsible, weren’t you?” He paused and studied each Watcher in turn. “No spell caster has gone through the Outpost, so it’s got to be one of you. Who is it?”

Geoff rose from the ground, made a quick graceful bow, and then sank back down again.

Saul’s mouth fell open in utter shock.

“We’re Watchers, lads,” Logan said, an expansive smile on his face. “We must be ready to pull up stakes at any time and start over somewhere else. Knowing at least two trades is part of the deal.”

“Wait a minute. Mastering a trade takes years,” Jon said.

“No one is talking about mastery,” Karin said. “We can get by and fool the casual observer. Anyone else is either another Watcher, or someone who needs watching. But let’s return to your other questions. We need to go soon.”

“My dagger,” Jon said. “You used it to unlock your chains, right?” He unsheathed the Slayer and examined the blade. “Squirrel Slayer. I should’ve known. Squirrels are small, and can get almost anywhere. That’s why you suggested the name for my dagger.”

Logan’s smile grew wider.

“Dad, can the Slayer open any kind of lock?” Jon asked.

“No, lad,” Logan said, suddenly somber. “Your dagger can’t open magical locks. There’s usually a very good reason for something to be magically sealed.”

“But what do Watchers do? Aside from watching, I mean,” Saul said.

Geoff favored his son with an approving smile. Saul blushed.

“There hasn’t been a major war in this continent for over a thousand years. Thanks to our work, mostly.”
Finally. The boy asks an intelligent question. Took him long enough.

“So Watchers are in every part of the continent?” Jon asked.

“Yes,” Arti said. “Well, except the frozen Northern wastes. And the only creatures who live there are …” She shrugged and gestured at the pile of goblin corpses.

“We have to wrap this up and get on the road.” Geoff glanced at the sky.

Already almost noon.

He regretted not taking the time to ensure there were no other goblin bands in the area. The boys said that according to the cyrion’s wolf pack, there were bigger bands to the North, but none in the immediate environs of the campsite.

But which fool would take the word of a cyrion?

“Can we take Anya home with us? She’s hurt,” Saul said.

“No, we’re not going home. We’re going to Linwood.” Arti turned to Jon. “You’re going to meet your Grampa Naeem.”

“I have a Grampa?” Jon frowned. “How come you’ve never mentioned him before? What’s he like?”

There was a fleeting expression of guilt on Arti’s face as she turned away. An expression Jon missed completely.

Jon shrugged. “Can Anya still come?”

The adults exchanged a knowing glance.

“Of course. Get the other children ready. Time to go,” Logan said.

The boys jumped up and scampered into the goblin captain’s tent. The adults stood around the remains of the campfire in silence, their backs turned to the tent, and waited until both boys were out of earshot.

“The female,” Geoff said in his soft baritone. “She is definitely a cyrion?”

“Yes,” Logan nodded. “The goblins were after her. We can’t eliminate her yet, though.” He turned over his shoulder and glanced at the tent. “Not with our boys and the other children here.”

“But, when we do this…” Karin set her pleading blue-grey eyes on Geoff. Eyes like Saul’s. “The boys…she’s their friend. How would we explain—?”

Arti studied the ground. “Well, they’re of Watcher blood. They’ll manage. Or they’ll learn to.” She sounded unconvinced.

Logan shook his head, frowning. “And their main camp, up North?”

“We send the military division after them,” Geoff said. “This is a job for the Knights, not Field Watchers like us.” He sighed. “We have to go to Linwood and report this in person. This situation’s too complex for a written report. Also, I say we ask the Knights to bring at least one goblin to Linwood alive, to see if they’re planning anything more.” Geoff turned to his squad. “Are we agreed?”

They all gave their assent.

“And we’ll have to use the portal to get to Linwood.” Logan said.

“I can already hear Dad chewing us out for using the portal,” Arti said. “But we need to get everyone to Linwood quickly. We also don’t have enough food or medicine for a long trek.”

“Mum, Dad! Come on. Let’s go!” Saul said.

Geoff rolled his eyes.
And the boy still hasn’t learned any basic manners.

“Coming,” Karin said. Her slender hand rested on his arm for a brief moment, as if telling him to be patient. She turned away and hurried to ready all the children for the journey to Linwood.

* * * *

Jon stood in the shadows of the elm trees lining the trail to the Free City of Linwood. They crossed the Linwood/Outpost portal and the grumps decided to stop for the night as the sun began to set. He watched the other children, mostly orphans now, play in the clearing beside the track. He no longer felt like he was one of them. He’d been marked both by the sacrifices he forced them to endure— the loss of their parents—and by the killings he made earlier in the day.

Blood stained his hands. His soul was tainted.

Jon sank on his haunches and bent his head, fingers trailing over the debris covering the roots of the elm. He had no choice.
It was them or us.
He winced and squinched his eyes shut as he replayed the scene in his mind.

The whoofing sound when he made the fatal embrace, knocking the wind from the first goblin. The warm splash drenching his arm after he made his first stab. The shock of bright-orange goblin blood dripping from his arm. The shudders of a living creature’s final breath. The look of terror on the next goblin’s face. No one ever gave him a look like that before.

The look of utter fear.

It was all his fault. The grumps would’ve been fine. If not for his stupid plan, Anya would never be in danger
. And I wouldn’t need to—

 A warm, moist tongue lashed his cheek. He looked up to Minari’s laughing lupine face.

“Found him.” Jon heard a familiar piping voice say.

His face broke out in a smile at the sight of Anya’s slight figure and the sound of Saul, crashing through the underbrush.