Echoes Of A Gloried Past (Book 2) (10 page)

Aaron turned his head to the side at the sounds of a struggle to see a man being dragged through an alleyway by a group of guards. The guards occasionally threw the poor sod to the ground, giving him a few kicks for good measure before hoisting him to his feet again.

Verona seized Aaron’s arm and shook his head slightly. 

“I know what you would do my friend, but we can’t make everyone’s business our own. Not here.”

Aaron nodded reluctantly, unable to decide which bothered him more: seeing such brutality occur in broad daylight or watching the city’s denizens go about their way, ignoring the scene. Another group of guards passed, heading toward the alley-way, shouting for the path to be cleared. Aaron quickly got out of the way, but watched as the guards approached the group, carrying the almost-unconscious man. The two groups stopped while the leaders conferred. Aaron noted that the men of each group had their hands upon their swords. After a few terse words that he couldn’t hear in their entirety, the new group of guards took custody of the prisoner. 

“You see they must take care of their own,” Roselyn whispered.

Aaron was glad for the intervention of the guards, but his impression of the city was gravitating toward one of a powder keg, where a single spark would set all aflame.

“How does anyone live like this?” Aaron asked quietly. 

“Look who rules these people,” Verona said. “They are caught between the tyranny of the High King and that of the Elitesmen.”

As if by magic, two figures in dark cloaks moved fluidly through the crowd, making their way like the opposing forces of a magnet. Aaron could sense the gathering energy and knew that these were Elitesmen. He wanted to quell the arrogance right out of them. Sheer will alone kept Aaron from attacking the Elitesmen as they passed. Will and knowing that Sarah’s life was in the balance if he failed. He wondered if they could sense him the way he could them. If only he could sense whether they had a travel crystal with them.

Aaron turned to Verona. “Can you sense them?”

Verona’s brow furrowed in concentration and after a few moments, “Yes,” he whispered, sounding surprised.

“Good,” Aaron said, pleased. Both Verona and Sarik had been practicing the slow forms for meditation while he had been unconscious and were slowly increasing their ability to sense the life energy around them. Very soon, they would be able to pull the energy into themselves.

“You can sense them?” Roselyn asked quietly.

“Yes,” Aaron answered.

Roselyn frowned and held up a small device in her hand. “I get nothing,” she said, putting the device away. “Nothing beyond body heat. I don’t think they have any travel crystals on them.”

Aaron nodded, knowing that it would have been too good to be true if it were that easy. He turned his attention to the people again and finally understood why Sarah had held them all at arm's length in the beginning. He had assumed she was slow to trust, given the things she had to deal with during her childhood, but now he understood all too well. 

Seeing the place she called home put things in a clearer perspective. He knew she aided an underground resistance, but he had no idea how to reach out to them. Aaron felt a cold shiver run the length of his spine and turned to see an Elitesman staring squarely in his direction.
Not yet.
He turned in the opposite direction and headed down a side alley-way away from the droves of people at the market place.

A short while later, they made steady progress toward the Elitesmen stronghold. The massive dark towers stretching their clawed crowns toward the sky loomed ever present in their view. Through strings of conversations and asking seemingly harmless questions, they learned that the city was divided into districts, each run by a captain who then reported to the captain commander. 

Despite the oppressive power of the guards, the vibe from each of the districts was vastly different from one to the next. Aaron couldn’t determine where the borders of one district ended and another began. The district they were in now was cleaner than any of the others so far, and the people were not quite so downtrodden. Even the guards they passed seemed friendly and stood with pride rather than a challenging stance bent on trouble. He was almost starting to relax when a guard called out to them.

“You three,” the guard said.

They all turned to the guard, none of them volunteered to speak first.

“I don’t believe I recognize you. Are you lost?" the guard asked.

Verona recovered first, “Yes, my good sir. We have newly arrived to your wonderful city. We are heading toward the central market square. Would it be too much of a bother if you could point us in the right direction?”

The guard stepped closer to them, his eyes lingering on Roselyn, who slowly pulled off the hood of her cloak and returned the guard's gaze in kind. 

The guard’s eyes flashed admiringly and looked respectfully toward Aaron and Verona, “Yes,” the guard said. “Head up this way for three blocks until you come to Main Street East and then turn right. You can’t miss it, but it will be eleven blocks whence you turn.”

Verona nodded appreciatively, “My thanks to you, good sir. We’ll be on our way then.” 

The three of them walked in the direction that the guard indicated. To do otherwise would arouse suspicion.

“I see you’ve found your voice,” Aaron said quietly to Verona.

“One rises to the occasion,” Verona replied with a grin, but the grin faded as his eyes drew toward Roselyn, who walked in front of them. She pulled her hood back up and tucked away her silky black hair. “I don’t suppose I could trouble you for a bit of advice?”

“Why not,” Aaron grinned, he had been expecting this.

“For the first time, words escape me, my friend,” Verona began, still staring longingly at Roselyn’s back. “It’s stupid to bring this up. Forget I said anything,” Verona said quickly and began to walk away.

Aaron grabbed his friend’s arm. “It’s not stupid. The world doesn’t stop simply because of one’s problems. I am your friend as you’ve been to me ever since I arrived here. If I can help, even if it’s just to listen, then I will.”

Verona smiled. “Thank you, my friend. I know we have bigger things to be concerned about than my boyish crush on our beautiful, fair, and exotic traveling companion.”

“Is that all it is then, a boyish crush?” Aaron asked.

Verona was silent for moment, and Roselyn glanced in their direction to be sure they were still following. “No,” Verona answered, “it’s not.”

“Good,” Aaron said, “because if it were, I’d thrash you for wasting my time,” he said, giving Verona a playful shove.

Verona laughed. “What do I do?”

“You could try talking to her,” Aaron quipped.

“What would I say?”

Aaron swallowed a chuckle, because Verona was completely serious and he didn’t want to offend. “I suggest being honest and listen. Listening to what a woman has to say is good place to start.”

“What if … ” Verona started to say, “what if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“There is only one way to find out, but I would suggest picking your moment and taking small steps with a word here and there,” Aaron grinned, and Verona shoved him back. That was good. Verona must have it bad if he was asking him these questions. What did he know about women? 

Roselyn waved them over. They had come to Main Street East. The sounds of a crowd grew steadily louder, beyond the normal rabble of city life, and they quickened their pace. A large crowd gathered at the intersecting streets, and the closer they got, Aaron could hear the sharp crack of several whips and screams of pain. He pushed his way through the crowd to get a better look. Roughly fifteen men dressed in filthy rags stumbled through the street. Blood stained their backs. He counted twenty guards forming a circle to keep the crowd at bay, while three guards carried long leather whips dripping with blood. They were followed by a grim-faced captain who looked as if he were about to be sick. The grisly group was still a block away from where Aaron stood and approached rapidly. Aaron’s hands drifted to his swords as he glanced across the street and saw children interspersed amid the angry crowd. 

Aaron noticed the captain glance behind him at the two cloaked figures that followed.
Elitesmen,
he thought, utterly disgusted with the display. Aaron was about to step out into the street when Verona pulled him back.

“Look at them,” Verona said. “The guards.”

Aaron turned back and studied the guards. They all appeared grim faced and frightened despite the horrendous actions of which they were a part. 

“They are afraid,” Aaron said. It hadn’t occurred to him until this moment that the guards themselves would feel powerless against the Elitesmen. He underestimated the hold that the Elitesmen had upon these people. His first encounter was in a small town remote from any cities; he had assumed the awe of the townsfolk had been exaggerated when he took down the Elitesmen. Now he witnessed a mob of people in a city cowed by merely two Elitesmen. He couldn’t absolve the guards entirely in his mind. How could anyone do that to another human being?

“I can’t walk away from this,” Aaron said to Verona and Roselyn. The latter looking as if she were about to protest, but stopped when Verona gently put his hand upon her shoulder and shook his head slightly.

“I’ll be right back,” Aaron said, pulling up the hood of his cloak. Then he grabbed a swath of black cloth and tied it so that only his eyes showed and disappeared into the crowd.

“What will he do?” Roselyn asked.

Verona guided her to the outskirts of the crowd so they had a clear view. “I’m not sure. Remind me to tell you about how Aaron and I met at a small town called Duncan’s Port. In the meantime, let's watch and help if we can.” 

Roselyn nodded, and they waited while the poor men under the whips were driven forward.

 
Crack!

The harsh sound of the whip struck the miner’s back, sending droplets of blood flecking into the crowd, with some hitting Nolan’s cheek. Anson wouldn’t make eye contact with him now. When they had first left the station, Nolan had ordered the men to drive the miners along using the whips to crack the air. More of a theatrical display than anything else. He had hoped that the display would satisfy the Elitesmen, but he had been wrong. Dead wrong, and five of his guards had paid the price with their lives. The side of his head still throbbed from where the Elitesman had thwarted his attack, while another raised his hand, sending a searing blue orb into his chest. His chest still burned from where the orb struck. A warning, the Elitesman had said. The next one would not be aimed at him, but at his wife and daughter. His son, Jason, was too valuable an asset to waste. Jason they would simply take.

Nolan spat the blood from his mouth where he had bit his cheek. The remainder of his squad hardly glanced back at their captain, who had failed to protect five of their number. Though Nolan had only been their captain for six months, he had made it a point to know the men under his command, and he knew that there were some with families whose husbands and fathers would never again come home. His hand lingered upon his sword. How he wanted to lash out and kill the Elitesmen in a torrent of righteous fury, but deep down he knew he would only hasten his own death and doom his own family. He buried his emotions and continued to drive his men forward mercilessly. Let them hate their captain if they could. He would bear the burden of what the Elitesmen had done to all of them in this display of barbarism. Deep within the foundations of his inner core, Nolan knew that he could never absolve himself of the actions taken this bloody day. He turned back to the Elitesman who stared back at him impassively. 

Nothing. There is nothing I can do to stop this. 

Nolan’s hand drifted toward the knife in his belt, toying with rebellious thoughts.

Throw it!
A voice in his mind ordered. At the same moment, Anson glanced his way, noting where Nolan’s hand had strayed. Nolan looked back at his friend, and Anson nodded back with his own hand tapping his knife.

I’m sorry, Arienh.

It would be a good death. Nolan pulled his knife free and hurled it at the Elitesman, with Anson matching his movements in perfect unison.

The Elitesman’s movements blurred, sending both his and Anson’s knife harmlessly to the side. The Elitesmen growled and drew their swords, and Nolan did the same. Behind him, he heard the sounds of numerous blades hiss free of their sheaths, and he risked a quick glance to see that all his guards had drawn their swords, grim faced and determined. It appeared he would be testing the Elitesmen’s mettle this day.

A dark figure slammed upon the ground between them, startling the advancing Elitesmen. The figure stood tall in silent waiting as a hush swept over the crowd. The Elitesmen lashed out with their blades in a blur, and the dark figure moved equally fast, whirling his staff and blocking their attacks. 

Aaron squared off against the two Elitesmen. The bladesong coursed through him, but he did not draw his swords. He held the rune-carved staff steady in his hands and patiently waited for the arrogance of the Elitesmen to win over. They fed upon the fear of those around them. They would contend with someone who could stand against them today. 

The Elitesmen attacked as a pair, perfectly coordinated with lethal accuracy, their blades racing to meet him. Aaron shifted through their attacks, drawing upon the energy around them and moving faster than they ever could. In a quick burst, he sent one of the Elitesmen to the ground with a blow from his staff. The other Elitesman, lighter on his feet, danced deftly out of reach, coming to a stop in the middle of the rabble of men the guards had been trying to clear out of the way. Aaron’s eyes caught the captain’s as they flashed in alarm. He swung his staff in a wide arc, catching the Elitesman that approached from behind. He followed up with a crushing blow to the head, and the Elitesman moved no more. 

With a nod to the captain, Aaron drew upon the energy around him and leaped into the air closing the distance between himself and the remaining Elitesman. The crowd began to scatter, and the Elitesman snatched a fleeing child attempting to run past him and turned to face Aaron with a wicked gleam in his eyes.