Lingering Shadows-Chapter 41

Only two notes for this extremely eventful chapter…

• one, sorry I didn’t get it out sooner.

• Two, I dont have a chapter title for this one. Oh well.

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Chapter 41-

“We can stop here,” the warrior whispered softly, the heavy silence and darkness of the woods, along with the secrecy and weight of the night pressing down on him, making it seem a crime to break the quiet.       

“Are you certain?” The leader asked, glancing back in the direction they had come. His voice was low, but despite that it turned the darkness of the woods dangerous and threatening and unknown.

 “I’m certain,” the young warrior replied. “He will come this way. This is the only path. No one will find us or hear us, we’re in the middle of the woods. And just a little bit away from here is an abandoned outpost of some kind we can fall back to. As far as I know, no one else knows it's here.”

The leader glanced at him sharply. 

“There will be no falling back. But we will need to stay out here a few hours until its our time to leave.”

He held the young man in his glare, questioning and cold.

 “You must be sure. No one knows this place.”

The warrior took a deep breath, his dark eyes flitting to the ground and then back up again. He straightened himself up, tossing the ragged strands of hair from his eyes and lifting his chin in defiance, aware that the black forms clustering around them had their eyes on him, in scorn or expectation or concern. 

“I am sure.” 

A smile flashed across the dark face of the leader and he gave the young warrior a nod, clapping a hand to his shoulder. 

The warrior stood even taller, black eyes flashing with relief and pride and excitement. 

“Here is where you prove yourself,” the leader whispered softly, watching the warrior’s face, reading his features. 

The warrior’s breath caught in his throat and he leaned forward slightly, his face shadowed and his eyes lit up, his voice dropping low and fierce when he spoke.”

 “And I will not disappoint.”

The two had their eyes locked and stood there for a few seconds longer, the leader trying to understand the young man’s wild fierceness and growing skill, and was satisfied that he held the warrior’s loyalties. And though it caused him no concern, he saw that the fiery spirit would only grow, and he again determined to keep it tightly bound, tamed and controlled and used. 

The young warrior wanted to feel the leader’s strength and confidence as his own. Uncertainties had come and gone, and though he didn’t realize it himself, or think on the fact, it was in his nature for his loyalties to run deep. 

The leader’s gaze changed though, and the warrior felt he was trying to stare him down.

It sparked his defiance again, and fire leapt into his eyes as he glared back, but he quickly subdued it and glanced down. When he looked up again he had the feeling that he had somehow pleased the leader more. 

The leader turned then, letting go of the hilt of his blade, and he gestured for the warriors to take their places, hiding themselves among the trees and bushes and darkness as they waited for the unsuspecting High King to pass by. 

*

The Keep was dark now, and only a few people remained. One was a rowdy group of four clustered around a huge tree on the grounds outside the Keep, which Aspen, one of the four, was attempting to climb. 

Io was urging him on and laughing after having given him a boost to get up past the trunk. Dru called warnings and threats and cautions up to him, and Josif watched with a small smirk, his arms crossed as he leaned against a tree. 

Io had actually dared Aspen to climb the Keep Tree, and the only reason they had settled for the outside compromise was because Josif had stepped in to help Dru threaten to collar the younger two and ship them back to Anniera if they had to drag them all the way to the Watercraw.

A branch cracked under one of Aspen’s feet and Dru put his hands around his mouth to yell up at him. 

“Aspen, don't you dare fall or I’ll never speak to you again!” 

Aspen let go with one hand, swinging out from the trunk and grinned down at Dru.

 “Stop worrying so much!”

Next to Dru, Io snickered, earning himself a shove from the older boy. 

Inside the Keep, there were only two other people, and one dog. Artham was pacing back and forth, muttering, swinging his hands around in jerky gestures as he argued at himself in low tones. Connolin followed behind him, trotting back and forth at Artham’s heels. 

Arundelle watched Artham in concern as he continued to whisper in low, jumbled tones, occasionally pressing a hand to his forehead, unaware that she was watching him. He had told her what had happened with Esben, or at least as much as he could without further breaking his brother’s confidence. She had gone home after talking with him for a long while, but come back for the cloak she had left behind. The Artham she had talked to just a little while ago had been calm and rational, even as he had seemed anxious.

After a few more minutes, Connolin gave up following his master back and forth and back and forth, so he walked over and flopped down at Arundelle’s feet with a huff, whining at her to pet him. 

“Artham, stop,” Arundelle stepped forward and laid a hand on Artham’s arm. He started and turned around, relaxing when he saw her face. 

“What?” He asked, looking at her questioning lay. 

 “You need to stop this,” she said quietly.

 “I can’t! Aru, he’s been gone for over an hour!It only takes him fifteen minutes to go that distance. Something happened to him! I shouldn’t be just standing here!” The desperation in his voice deepened as he spoke, and he stepped toward the door, again stopping in his tracks at the pressure of her hand. 

“Artham, from what you’ve told me, what he has to tell her could take a long time.” 

Artham’s gaze softened, but only for a moment. 

“He shouldn’t be going alone! None of this should be happening to him, and I should have been able to tell something was wrong!” He was quiet for a moment before speaking again. 

“I never should have fought with him, or said the things I did.” 

“I know, Artham,” Arundelle spoke softly. “Your brother is doing his best to make something right with this girl. He was wrong to do what he did.” 

Instinctively, Artham started to speak in defense of his brother but Arundelle continued.

 “He was wrong. And even though you are being far too hard on yourself, in a way you were too.” she looked up at him, her green eyes piercing and soft at the same time. 

“So what are you going to do to make it right?” She asked. He stood quiet for a moment. 

 “He’s trying to fix things, and I don't want to mess it up for him,” he said quietly. “But I’m so, so scared something happened to him.” Artham paused, then continued. “I’m going to go after him to make sure he’s okay. If I find him at Chimney Hill, I’ll wait outside for him and make things right on the way home.”

 “Good,” Arundelle said, nodding. 

“I just have this awful feeling he won’t be there,” he said. 

“Then go find him,” she said firmly. “May the Maker’s hand protect you, may he speed you on your way and guide you to your brother. Be safe, Artham.” 

“You know I can’t promise that,” he whispered. 

 “Then Maker keep you, no matter what you have to do,” she finished.

Taking a deep breath, Artham squeezed her hand with a grateful look. Her breath caught in her throat and all she could manage was a tight smile. 

 He let go of her hand and put a hand to his belt, checking his sword and then tightening the dagger in his sleeve. 

Clicking to Connolin, Artham ran out of one of the back doors of the Keep, as fast as he could to the woods in the direction of Chimney hill.

*

Esben stormed through the woods, not wanting to look back at the gate where he could feel Artham still standing, watching him. When he rounded a corner in the path he stopped for a second, but then he picked up his pace again so as not to let the argument catch up to him. After walking for he didn’t know how long, he picked up a broken stick from the ground and swung it aimlessly at low hanging branches and tree trunks as he fumed. 

Blind anger is an excellent way to keep from thinking too hard. When the lights of the Keep had disappeared behind him, he slashed his stick at a thin branch blocking the path. It immediately swung back, smacking him hard across the face. 

“Ow…” 

He paused, wincing, and then kept walking down the trail, not as fast as he slowly simmered down. He didn’t want to arrive at Chimney Hill in danger of boiling over.

There weren’t any lights left to be seen from the woods now, and a dim, silvery moonlight poured over the trees, making the shadows deep and black. 

He sighed heavily, finally unable to keep his words from catching up to him. He was still angry. Artham’s words had stung, but mostly because they were true. Mostly. Artham’s surprised and hurt look was burned into Esben’s mind, and before he could let himself think on the whole argument for long, he resolved to make up with his brother as soon as he got back.

He was sick and tired of guilt and secrets. 

He sighed, something in him feeling relief, maybe because at least this time he didn’t try to fight with the guilt. He walked in silence for a while. 

Above the usual sounds of the night forest, something snapped. Esben froze, an icy chill running down his spine. 

Don’t be silly, he told himself. It was just…a squirrel or something. 

He shook his head and kept going, forcing himself to keep his normal, easy stride. 

Then he heard another sound. His heart started racing, fear running through his mind as he walked a little faster, pushed forward by the overwhelming feeling of being watched, the dark feeling of someone or something else waiting nearby. The healing cut on his hand began to ache again as his mind filled with the way something like this had happened a few days ago. That time he had been with Artham, and even then just three had been plenty to deal with. 

His heart dropped and another wave of icy fear ran over him as he realized he had left his sword at Oak Hill. All he had was the small dagger slung at his belt, and he found his hand clasped tightly to its hilt. 

Then he turned his head in the direction of a rustle and saw the flash of moonlight reflecting off a curve of cold metal. He yanked the dagger from his belt and immediately someone slammed into him from behind, knocking him to the ground. He bounced back up, swinging his dagger blindly and sinking it deep into whatever had hit him. 

The black shadow in front of him hadn’t even shoved him away when the blackness of the woods seemed to come to life. 

The silence was shattered and Esben’s heart pounded wildly as he threw up his dagger to block flashes of steel that swung down at him as he turned, slashing and stabbing, his teeth bared as he fought for his life. Somehow he managed to keep the deadly forms in front of him at bay, but pain shot out multiple times across his unprotected back and head and shoulders, not from the cut of a blade, which dimly surprised him through the wild haze of the battle spell. 

He swung around and lunged straight forward at the tall warrior behind him, a tall man with a curved, ornate sword. The man was caught off guard and Esben’s dagger would have struck his chest but a smaller shadow flew in front of him and slammed a short sword up against his dagger, pushing up and twisting it away in one swift motion.

Esben’s blue eyes locked for one second with the black ones in front of him, and though in the insane rush of terror he couldn’t think who it was, he was struck by the awful realization that he knew the boy behind the mask.

Then something hard struck against the back of his head and shoved him to the ground. He tried to push himself back up and jerked back, slamming his elbow into whoever was behind him, twisting and managing to get in one good punch before he was forced back to a kneeling position. 

Before the dizziness faded, his hands were tied behind his back and the man he assumed was the leader stood close, watching with his arms crossed. Esben looked up, furious and fearful, terror exploding in his chest at the feel of the rope holding his hands fast and the dark figures around him and the realization that he might not get out this time. 

Esben returned the leaders glare with every ounce of anger he could muster, but then he felt someone watching him from the other side. He turned and saw again the warrior who had knocked the dagger from his hand. 

The face was expressionless and impassive as he watched Esben strain against the cords around his wrist, but when Esben met his eyes, he glanced away, rubbing the palm of his left hand.

 “Aro?” Esben asked incredulously, a storm of confusion and dread rising in his mind. 

The warrior looked back at him, the cold mask cracking in an expression of anger as he fingered his dagger.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind but only one came with as much clarity as lightning flashing in the storm. 

“You traitor!” Esben shouted at him, furious and hurt and betrayed, but nothing he said could change what was happening to him now, and whatever had happened to Aro, Esben had realized it far too late. 

The leader laughed, stepping to the warrior and putting a hand on his shoulder.

 “He was never a traitor,” he said to Esben.  “You just didn’t know whose side he was on.”