As good as dead

A Chapter by Isemay

Zius had insisted that they go to Lallareth. There should be Light Bringers there to keep them safe, and he said he wanted to look after a friend’s birds. Ayred found the man odd. Kind, but odd.

“I am not going near that place.” Silosyil was adamant. “Light Bringers do more harm than good, I have no interest in begging for their protection.”

“Go your own way then.” Lutius dismissed her sharply.

Ayred knew his guards were glad to see the back of the thief, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit ambivalent about her leaving. The beggar had wanted her to stay with him. He had thought, perhaps she was supposed to teach him something. Ayred shook his head, the ramblings of a mad old beggar, for a moment he had thought they had meaning.

They headed toward the road. Malav would be heading toward Isemalrocath, Lallareth would be out of his way and protected, there was nothing more that could be asked.

The heavy tramp of feet before they came in sight of the road told them another story. They pulled back cautiously. Zius still intended to head for Lallareth, but if Malav was moving in that direction perhaps he intended to take other cities and grow his army before he descended on Isemalrocath. Lallareth was not going to be a safe place.

Ayred looked at the old man’s determined face and gave the order. They would go to Lallareth. Moving through the wilderness was not easy or quick, but it was doable. Lutius and Aramen insisted that there be no fires at night, nothing that might attract Malav’s notice.

When they reached the tower fortress it had already been taken and abandoned. A few badly mutilated corpses were in heaps on the ground, obviously no longer threats to anyone. They had simply been left to rot. Piles of ash here and there both inside and out were all that were left of the Light Bringers that had been here.

The birds Zius had been concerned with were still alive and he began taking care of them immediately. Ayred left him to it as Lutius and Aramen looked through the supplies. The Prince found his way up to the mirador. Looking out he felt a chill, he could see Malav’s army still marching across the river on the Oryr Road.

Leaning against the low wall he noticed a field glass and he gathered his courage to take a closer look. It seemed that some of the corpses had dropped as they marched. Heaps of what used to be men seemed to speak to the theory that there was a certain point at which the dead were no longer able to be commanded. He shuddered, the headless men marching proved that it took a great deal for Malav’s dead soldiers to reach that point.

Behind the dead came the living. Soldiers of Cearazon and Luzoron what would compel them to serve… His father’s death. Bitter blood and a dead man’s tears. The old beggar’s words. Somehow the man had known. Malav was now King. The only hope Ayred had was that Malav believed he had died in the burning of Gaelel. If he returned home he was as good as dead.

He made his way down out of the mirador in a daze. No longer able to go home, he was no longer a Prince.

“They’ve moved on, at least a day ago. Stirring up a fire for some tea and some hot food isn’t going to draw notice.” Lutius was arguing with Aramen.

“They’re-” Ayred had to stop and clear his throat. “They’re just across the river. The living troops are behind the dead. They could still turn.” Both men looked at him as if understanding there was more. “The soldiers are not-not only from Luzoron. Cearazon soldiers march for my brother. Which-” He paused collecting himself. “Which means-”

“Malav is King. King Iotav is dead.” Aramen said quietly.

Ayred nodded. “I understand if you wish to return home to your families. There is nothing binding you to my service.”

“If Malav can be defeated, you would be King.” Lutius reminded him gently.

“Do you believe anyone can defeat him?” Ayred gave him a bitter look.

“The Holy Father, perhaps.” Zius offered from the doorway. “Malav will go to Isemalrocath eventually to fetch his wife and child.”

With a shrug, Ayred dismissed the possibility. “With two armies, I would expect Malav to be able to overwhelm anything the Holy Father could throw at him.”

The outer door slammed open startling all of them. Lutius and Aramen lunged for Ayred and pushed him toward Zius as they drew their weapons.

“Ayred?!” A woman’s voice rang out and Silosyil ducked into the room in a panic. She took in the two armed men and Ayred stepped out from behind Zius. “Ayred!” The relief in her voice was a surprise.

“Silosyil? What’s-” The woman embraced him and he looked to Lutius in shock.

“Are you carrying anything worth stealing?” Lutius asked dryly.

Silosyil stepped back and gave the man a scathing look. “Grandfather was not,” she sighed and shook her head, “not happy that I disobeyed. The Priestess of Ayil said you might be killed or the shrine on the Oryr Road might be stolen because I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.” She looked much like Ayred usually felt after his father had taken him to task.

“What shrine? Malav is on the Oryr road now, across the river.” Ayred couldn’t help but ask.

“Iskus has a shrine somewhere there. Light Bringers have hunted for it for years.” Zius answered for her.

“Malav will find it.” Silosyil shook her head. “We may be too late.” She looked up at Ayred pleadingly, “Please, I need you to help me be sure.”

“Me?” He felt as though a fish were flopping in his belly. It was a spectacularly stupid idea to go after something Malav was looking for, and at the same time he wanted to be able to do something, anything at all, to thwart Malav.

“He can’t.” Lutius was answering for him. “He’ll be the only heir to the throne if Malav can be stopped.”

“If he takes the shrine, I don’t think anyone will be able to stop him.” Silosyil shook her head and frowned. “And it has to be Ayred.”

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