The Sigil Blade (30 page)

Almost freshly carved in appearance, the panel displayed in beautifully detailed stonework an image of a wounded and dying man, whose blood was collecting in a pool within the basin.

“It was said that a Sigil Warrior was never any more powerful than he was when he faced his death,” Seoras said, his voice taking on added depth as it broke the silence and echoed through the chamber. “When the soul transits to the next realm, it opens a gate. That gate develops conditions in the dark that allows it to be more easily shaped. Whoever built this, I think they tried to catalyze those conditions with a sacrifice.”

“I think I know more now than I really care to,” Edryd said. He could feel the pressure building and he wanted to leave. Unaffected, Seoras showed no concern for Edryd’s discomfort.

“The next panels are interesting ones,” Seoras said, looking at two more carvings that completed a grouping of three that had begun with the depiction of the dying man.

The two panels were interesting, if rather more obscure than the first. One of them showed another man, wreathed in flowing energies, standing over an opening in the floor of the upraised dais where the basin should have been. The last was an image depicting the circle of five towers, surrounded by runic inscriptions. Edryd couldn’t discern any particular pattern to the placement of the runes, but they were not random. There was information in these symbols and in their positions if you could understand it, like locations on some kind of abstract map.

“I know what this is,” Edryd said.

“By all means,” Seoras said, inviting Edryd to share his theory, all the time looking at his pupil with a less than kind smile that suggested he thought Edryd was about to say something foolish.

“This was made by the first men. This is where they tried to build the bridge to the High Realms, and the gods destroyed them for it.”

His teacher’s face became very serious. “This was not made by the first men,” he said. “But you might not be far off about the rest.”

“We need to get out,” Edryd insisted.

“This place was used for other things as well,” Seoras said, “there are other panels.”

“Can’t you feel them pressing in on us?” Edryd asked. He believed this place had almost killed him once, and he was more convinced of that with each passing moment.

Seoras was confused. He was deaf to the danger of this chamber, Edryd could see that now. The window into Seoras revealed no fear. To him this place was dead. It posed no threat. But Seoras did keenly want to know what it was Edryd felt. He began to approach.

“Maybe together, there is something…”

Edryd stepped back. He didn’t understand how it worked, but he knew that he increased the ease with which Seoras could shape. It was unclear what might happen if the dark man tried to use him as a focus in this place, but the two of them together could prove a very bad combination.

“Don’t come closer, and don’t try to shape the dark!” Edryd warned.

Seoras stopped, surprised at the urgency in Edryd’s command. “I couldn’t shape anything of substance if I wanted to,” Seoras objected. “Something down here interferes and makes it difficult. I can barely maintain this,” he said, looking at the glowing sphere casting its illumination throughout the chamber.

Looking at it now, Edryd could see that the light wavered ever so slightly. It might have been a deliberate effect, only it had not looked this way when Seoras had first conjured it outside. Edryd no longer cared whether he could convince Seoras of the danger or what it would look like when he ran; he left the chamber, hurrying up the spiraling steps without bothering to turn and see whether Seoras followed him. It had not been so frightening this time, but he had not been trying as he had before to open himself to whatever this place was, and as a consequence he hadn’t felt the full force of the towers quite so strongly. Edryd took a position at the edge of the pile of rubble where the fifth tower had once stood. It seemed like the safest spot to sit and wait for Seoras.

He didn’t expect that he would need to wait very long, but minutes continued to slowly pass until he had been sitting there long enough to start feeling sore. Stars were appearing in the sky overhead and he began to feel tired. Edryd might have thought Seoras was in trouble, if not for the light that leaked out of the opening where the steps descended into the earth. It didn’t really matter though. Edryd was not going to go back in after Seoras for any reason.

Several times Edryd thought about returning to his camp at the edges of the ruins. In frustration Edryd stood up, determined to leave Seoras behind, but Seoras had not come out here to explore the chamber. He had something to tell his student, and Edryd did not yet know what it was. If he left now, Edryd could not expect that Seoras would find him in the dark, and he wouldn’t learn whether it was safe to return to An Innis or not. His patience had completely eroded away, but there was nothing Edryd could do. He had no choice but to sit back down and continue to wait.

When Seoras did finally emerge, it was dark. Without the light Seoras was maintaining, it would have been very difficult to navigate a path out of the ruins. They did not speak as they walked. Seoras was angry, Edryd could feel that, but he didn’t know why. Edryd did know why he was frustrated with Seoras though, so he was content to continue in silence.

They stopped to rest at Edryd’s camp. When they did, Seoras finally said something.

“You are too afraid of your power.”

Seoras didn’t elaborate, and Edryd decided to ignore him. A good portion of the cooked rabbit remained on a spit above the cold fire pit. Seoras collected a pile of dead wood and threw it onto the remains of the spent fire, and after a brief moment the wood burst into flame.

“Those coals were not even warm,” Edryd said in surprise. He had felt what Seoras had done, but he hadn’t known such a thing was possible. “Another trick you hadn’t shown me yet?”

As if in response, the light that had been hovering above and in front of Seoras disappeared in a short flicker as though it had never truly been there. “I was always especially good with fire,” he explained. “It helps that the wood was dry and there were actually a few embers left.”

Edryd added this to the list of things he had seen Seoras do that he had no hope of ever reproducing himself, another piece of the mounting evidence that demonstrated how dangerous the man was.

“I assume you came because it is safe to return,” Edryd said.

“I wouldn’t say safe exactly, but Herja is gone,” Seoras confirmed.

Edryd did not know who Herja was, and he wasn’t so sure he wanted to know, but he asked anyway. “Herja?”

“She is what you have been calling a draugr,” Seoras explained. “She came to see the man who had been calling himself the Blood Prince. She left satisfied that he wasn’t you. Trouble is, Logaeir overplayed his hand. She has taken an interest in him, and I worry she may be back again sooner than I would like.”

“Everyone is fine?”

“Yes, nothing has changed.”

The two men shared what was left of the rabbit.  Before they left, Seoras began to shape and the fire died so suddenly it could not possibly have been natural.

“If you don’t allow a fire to breath,” said Seoras, “it dies quickly.”

The same is true for a man Edryd thought to himself. It was becoming ever more apparent that if Seoras ever did get truly serious about killing him, there were a number of unusual but effective ways his teacher could choose from in order to accomplish his purpose. A healthy distance was the only defense that would afford Edryd any protection. He had a plan for that. Irial had worked it out. The unsolvable flaw in that plan continued to be Irial’s refusal to leave with him.

Seoras conjured the spectral light again, and together they moved in the general direction of An Innis. They did not stop for another rest until they came out onto a rocky piece of ground, which held interspersed clusters of woody plants and low grasses, marking the end of the forest. A wide expanse of open land lay before them, extending all the way out to the causeway which split the sea and linked the coast to the island of An Innis. Seoras did not seem troubled that the unnatural light would have been visible from miles away.

Though Edryd had been through this area twice before, both of those times he had been travelling in the dark, and had carried no source of light. He had noted marked graves near the coast, but had seen little else. The illumination Seoras was creating revealed more of the landscape than he had been able to see on those previous occasions. There were a few raised areas, as well as two distinct depressions, that altered the otherwise flat landscape.

As they walked through this desolate area, Edryd noticed bits of rubble, discarded pieces of broken tools, and other signs that men had lived here once. It wasn’t recent, and nothing still stood, but it wasn’t very old either. Edryd guessed that it was some abandoned extension of the settlement on An Innis. He remembered Irial’s friend Uleth having said there were at one time thousands of inhabitants. These were perhaps signs of that sudden expansion.

“Did people live here?” Edryd asked.

“People died here,” Seoras corrected. “It was a dark chapter in the history of An Innis.”

Seoras was not what could be considered an empathetic type. Edryd wondered what could move such a man to express even this modestly sad sentiment.

“I didn’t see much of this, as I left before it happened, but not long after the island became the new home for Beodred’s men, along with all of the people who were expelled from Nar Edor, things went very wrong. Starvation threatened the people of An Innis.”

“So some left the island and tried to make a go of it here,” Edryd surmised. He had heard parts of this before from Uleth, but he didn’t know anything about this settlement on the mainland.

“They did, but it did not go well,” Seoras confirmed. “Their arrival in large numbers pushed the deer herds away and they quickly depleted the rest of the remaining animal life in the area as well. They just as quickly consumed most of the fish in the rivers. Those who pushed further into the woods seldom returned, and of those that did, some returned incoherent and addled, ruined by things they had seen but could not explain.”

Edryd had been in those woods and had some idea now why it was a place to be avoided. He was happy to move off the topic and didn’t press for details as Seoras continued.

“The bulk of those who remained tried hard to survive, but nature conspired against them. As the weather grew cold they faced predation by packs of starving wolves and the threat of death from exposure. What they fought most though were the diseases that had come across with them, which only grew worse when those still on the island began burying their dead on this side of the causeway and forcibly expelling anyone who showed signs of illness, consigning them to die in this impoverished community.”

“Didn’t anyone go back?” Edryd wondered.

“Once you were here, you could not return. The causeway was guarded night and day by armed men to prevent anyone trying to get back across.”

“They can’t have all just stayed here and died,” Edryd protested.

“Of those that lived here, a quarter were dead before the end of the first year. Those that remained were offered a salvation of sorts by the strongest of Beodred’s men, who had by then taken control of An Innis.”

Edryd had guessed what was coming next, but he allowed Seoras to continue uninterrupted.

“The starving survivors agreed to be transported by ship to other lands and sold as laborers. This was the beginning of An Innis as an exporter of slaves to markets throughout the world.”

It was clear now how the population had regressed back closer to the number of original settlers. Those who hadn’t left or died of disease had been enslaved and sold.

“It didn’t stop there of course. The whole thing was far too lucrative and it was a trade these men already knew well. End up on the wrong side of a power struggle and you found yourself a fresh supply in the chain of human merchandise moving through An Innis.”

“I hadn’t known,” Edryd said. “I knew An Innis was a market for exporting slaves, with raiders capturing ever more from ships and from unprotected villages on return trips. But I didn’t know it had all begun by enslaving their own.”

“This island has made an outsized impact on the world, but that is all part of the past,” Seoras said. “The Ossians forged the agreement banning the practice of buying slaves, as much to stop the spread of diseases which accompanied the trade as for any other reason. They also sent Aelsian to protect the trade routes for merchant ships sailing to and from Nar Edor, and they began secretly backing the Ascomanni. An Innis is dying, and not many will miss it when it is gone.”

It was clear that the master shaper of the dark was among the many that would not miss An Innis. He didn’t need a one way link to see that Seoras hated this place. Edryd understood now. Seoras too had been entangled with and trapped upon the island of An Innis. There was some hope of escape for Edryd, but for Seoras, it seemed like there was none.

Chapter 16

Ældisir

T
hirteen men, twelve if you counted only the men of the Sigil Corps without including Sarel Krin, gathered on the docks. Seven of the most recent to arrive were from Aisen’s command who, when added together with Oren and Ruach, made it nine out of the original ten whose service to their captain had been assumed. With the addition of two eager volunteers recruited beside them, as well as Neysim Ells, there were now a dozen soldiers represented in the group. Once Krin had convinced Oren and Ruach that their efforts had Ledrin’s unofficial approval, it had taken not even two full days to organize these select few, all of whom could be said to possess an excess of courage in proportions nearly equal to their total lack of prudence.

“Where is Alef?” Ruach asked Oren.

“He won’t be coming, he’s sick,” the other officer explained.

Ruach, certain of the loyalty of the men who had served under Aisen’s command, had anticipated they would bring the entire unit, but assembling all but one of them was still as a very good result. These were not just any soldiers pulled from the ranks of the Sigil Corps. They were all of them among the very elite in the Order.

“We could have had more,” said Oren. “A lot more, but we were careful to keep this quiet.”

“I’ll be hard pressed to find space enough for all of you as it is,” said Krin. “Everything has been prepared. We leave when you and your men are aboard. Better sooner than later, and best if we leave now, without any delay.”

It was now the evening of the second day, and not yet the end of the full three that they had been given, but there was no reason to stay and every reason to be gone before morning.

“We really should go,” Neysim agreed. “Egran suspects… something. I saw him heading in the direction of Commander Ohdran’s offices as I was leaving the garrison.”

If there was any reluctance among those in the party, no one showed it. There would be no return to Nar Edor if they did not succeed in their mission, but this did not discourage them, and a sense of excitement was shared by the men as they boarded Krin’s ship. Their light armor had been stored below decks in advance and they now removed and folded the white overcoats that made up the most recognizable part of their uniforms. Unless someone were to look closely, and notice how lost they appeared on the deck, the soldiers would have appeared little different from the rest of the crew as Krin’s ship, the
Black Strand
, set sail.

Ruach and Oren watched the other soldiers, all of whom took pains to hide their unease over what was surely their first voyage out on the sea.

“A brave group,” Oren said.

“I’m sure they think they have a handle on this, but wait until we get underway beyond the harbor,” Ruach said.

“Which one loses his dinner over the railing first?” Oren asked, joining in on the joke.

Ruach wished Oren had not made that last comment; it conjured unpleasant memories of his own experiences. The first voyage was still fresh in his mind, and the trip back to Nar Edor had been only marginally better. “I hope it isn’t me,” Ruach said.

Some of the men in Krin’s crew were smiling. They were anticipating the same thing Ruach and Oren were. The sight of these allegedly invincible warriors emptying their stomachs over the side of the ship was not going to enhance the credibility with which the Ascomanni viewed the soldiers of the Sigil Corps.

***

Though she had been woken in the middle of the night, there was relief on Irial’s face as she opened the door to admit Edryd. Eithne was awake too, bleary eyed confused. Irial ordered her sister back into bed, and waited for her to leave before she began to talk with Edryd. She told him what she knew about Herja, and filled Edryd in on the events of the past few days.

Edryd told Irial some of what had happened in the ruins on the mainland, but he said nothing of the underground chamber, and he did not speak of the fear that had been planted within him by those experiences. They didn’t stay up long; they were much too tired for that. Irial left first once they were both done talking. Edryd headed in the opposite direction, glad for the shelter of his drafty room and grateful for the comfort and warmth of his bed after nearly a week of sleeping out on the ground.

The next morning, Irial encouraged Edryd to remain behind. Herja and her thralls had been gone only since yesterday afternoon, and it made sense to remain cautious. He could not be persuaded though, for Edryd was determined to resume his role as Irial’s protector.

It was a mild and pleasant day, of a kind which one might keenly feel should not be wasted, and as they travelled on the familiar road towards the settled parts of An Innis, Edryd made a direct plea aimed at convincing Irial to modify her plans for Eithne.

“When Aelsian comes, you will need to go with Eithne. With who knows how many draugar out there searching for me, I might be the single worst imaginable travelling companion.”

“There are at least ten of them,” Irial said, “but no more than twice that number.”

“Even if there were only one,” Edryd emphasized, certain that Irial was missing the point, “I would be powerless to stop it. Eithne would not be safe.”

“Your mother was of the Edorin line, descended from the last of the ancient Sigil Order, and your father was the founder of a new Sigil Order,” Irial said. The subject of his family was not comfortable for Edryd. His few memories of his mother before her death were vague and unclear, and his father had abandoned him when Edryd was no older than Eithne was now. “Your father wielded the Edorin Sigil Blade,” Irial continued. “Some speak of him as if he were a sigil knight—the first in hundreds of years. Seoras believes you to be even more powerful than your father, and I do as well.”

“How would Seoras know how to compare me to my father,” Edryd said, pointing out what he was sure was a flaw in her logic.

Irial did not answer, and Edryd remained quiet for a while after this as they walked. Finally Irial continued. “Even I see that you have powers that were only ever known to exist in the greatest of the Sigil Knights. The Sigil Order defeated the kingdoms of the sorcerers. You can manage a handful of these creatures and their thralls,” she said.

Edryd thought about the book Irial had borrowed from Uleth. It must be filled with a great deal of nonsense to have moved her imagination to create such an unrealistic estimation of her protector.

“Irial, I have no power. It is true that my father could do things. He may have even been something like a sigil knight, but I have no power of my own.”

“You can’t know that,” Irial said. She was not ready to believe him.

“The day before he left Nar Edor, my father took my head in his hands and held me,” Edryd said. He felt the need to convince her, and so he began sharing a story that he had never told to anyone. “He was testing me, taking a measure of the composition of my soul, looking for any hint of unrealized potential. I could feel his spirit plying its way through mine. I was just a child, but I got a glimpse at that moment of the power my father wielded, of what he could do.”

“With children of sigil knights, spiritual power passed down along family lines,” Irial said, interrupting. “Surely his strength passed on to his son.”

“Not in my case,” Edryd said.  “My father wanted to find a kernel of ability buried inside of me, but it was not there. He kept trying and trying. In the end, when he finished, he was exhausted. He had found nothing. He looked so sad it scared me. I knew then that he was ashamed of his son. He wouldn’t even look me in the eyes anymore, and in the morning, he was gone.”

Edryd didn’t know to this day why his father had left, but the experience had filled him with a pain and resentment that he continued to struggle with. In response to his having shared with her this memory which he so closely kept, Irial began to develop a resonant empathy towards Edryd, and she was at the conclusion of the story, visibly flushed with emotion.

“He was wrong about you,” she insisted.

Her declaration carried the weight of certain knowledge, not mere belief. Edryd could see he was not going to convince her. He had, he realized, also not been entirely truthful in his efforts to persuade her. There was something he possessed, but it seemed like the opposite of power, only giving added strength to his most dangerous enemies. If she knew this, maybe then she might understand, but he didn’t feel like sharing his fears.

“It still seems like…” he began to say, intending to argue once more that Irial needed to be the one to protect her sister.

“It has to be you,” Irial cut him off. “No one else can do this.”

Recognizing this was not the right moment to demand an explanation, Edryd let it pass. He needed to get a look at this book she had been reading. It was reinforcing the strange notions Irial seemed to have about him.

When they reached the estate they both headed towards the manor. Edryd had never actually visited this place where Seoras lived alone, but he needed to see him and had already traced the shaper’s distinct pattern and determined his location on the lower floor of the building. As Edryd drew closer, he began to get a picture his teacher’s emotions. Seoras was excited about something, something he was bursting to share.

Upon entering the building, it was obvious that no effort was being made to make use of, or to in any way maintain the upper levels. Everything on the main floor was kept clean, but the wooden stairs and railings that led up a level were covered in dust. Edryd located Seoras in the study near the back of the building next to the library, sorting his way through a pile of freshly made drawings. Depicted on some of these were renderings of the panels from the orphic chamber in the ruins.

“I’ve figured something out,” Seoras boasted, as he turned his head to greet Edryd. Seoras, Edryd realized, was in his true environment. Half of the library’s books were scattered about this room, a dozen of them cracked open on the table. Scrolls of loose parchment lay everywhere he looked. Edryd would never have imagined that this harsh manipulator of men, this shaper of the dark and master of steel, would have had so much passion for research and knowledge.

“The towers,” he began, “all five of them, or just four now I suppose, are massive constructs.”

Edryd did not understand the excitement. He expected more was coming, but Seoras seemed to be waiting for the importance of what he had said to sink in.

“Of course they were massive, seems you would have noticed that straight away,” Edryd said dryly. “And it isn’t a great discovery to point out that they were constructed, without knowing how or why.”

Seoras shook his head. “Constructs are, or were, tools created by sorcerers,” Seoras explained, “shaped pieces of the dark, torn loose from the barrier, and confined in a vessel.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You must have heard stories of creatures of stone and earth, magical weapons, sorcerer’s staffs, and spirit familiars that protected their masters?” Seoras asked. “Those things were all constructs. Anyone could be a sorcerer. Sorcerers did not need to be able to shape, or to attune their connections to the dark. All they needed was knowledge, and they used that knowledge to create constructs through which they could wield more power, stave off death, and unlock even greater secrets. Those towers were built as vessels to house constructs of incredible strength and power,”

Edryd still did not truly understand, but he did make the connection that this is what he must have been picking up on when he was in the ruins.

“Why could you not feel them?” Edryd wondered.

“It isn’t so much that I can’t,” Seoras said, “it’s more like they couldn’t see me.”

“You are not explaining this very well,” Edryd said. “Try something less cryptic, if you can manage it.”

“Their attentions were all directed at you. That is what you felt. While you were in there, as far as the constructs were concerned, I didn’t register as being worth notice.”

“You make it sound like the towers are alive,” Edryd said.

“Not the towers, but rather the constructs contained within them,” Seoras corrected. “Not exactly alive either, but over time, they can develop something close to a will of their own, even personalities. I have been in that chamber many times. Always, I felt a hint of animus focused on me, but just a hint so small that I dismissed it as a nervous reaction.”

“What I felt was not a hint or a nervous reaction. When I entered that chamber alone I was submerged beneath forces that overwhelmed me.”

“Whatever you may lack in talent for shaping,” Seoras said, the words coming out slow as if being pulled loose with effort, “your perceptions are far beyond my own.”

It was a startling admission. Edryd had a healthy respect for the powers Seoras controlled so easily. That Seoras should see in him something which surpassed his own mastery over the dark, filled Edryd with a profound fear. He remembered then something that Seoras had said to him only the night before. He had accused Edryd of being afraid of his own power. Those words had made no sense to Edryd then, but he began to understand them now. It suggested another possibility as well. Seoras was learning far more from Edryd than he was giving back in return.

It wasn’t that Seoras wasn’t eager to teach, Edryd just hadn’t proved to be a very capable student. Edryd took a renewed interest in the papers spread out on the table.