The Spirit of Revenge (6 page)

Aaron sipped his mug in thoughtful silence. He glanced at Cain who stared absentmindedly at the cards in his hand.

“I’m going to the room,” Cain said as he set his cards down. He stood up and left the room, leaving his untouched ale behind.

“Damn,” Silas snorted as Cain left, “what’s up his ass?”

Aaron turned to him. “His wife is dead.”

Silas lowered his glass from his lips and stared at Aaron with disbelief. “Eileen’s…dead?” Aaron remained quiet, but his eyes answered the question. Silas and Joshua’s gaze fell.

The nearby soldiers heard this grave news and bowed their heads. Many of them had fought beside Cain in the army and as Outriders for half their lives and never before had they seen their friend in such anguish.

“To Eileen,” Silas said as he raised his tankard. The soldiers raised theirs in unison.

“And to Cain,” Joshua added. The soldiers repeated the toast and lifted their mugs to their lips.

The sun’s rays refracted through the room’s only window and shimmered brilliant against the wooden walls. Cain and his friends were scattered around their room in various positions, sleep still heavy on their eyes.

Several beds lined the wall and faced a stone hearth. A table piled high with food stood in the middle of the room. Goblets of watered wine littered the tabletop. Several of them, having been drained of their contents, were discarded and abandoned on the floor.

Cain propped his feet up on the edge of the table and knocked back the last of the wine. He dropped the goblet to the ground where an impressive pile of emptied goblets was accumulating.

Silas and Joshua sat at the foot of a bed, polishing their armor that lay in a heap beside the door. Aaron sat beside the hearth and stared intently into the smoldering embers.

He stood up, put on his hauberk, and walked towards the door. “Where are you going?” Silas asked him.

“To get some actual food,” Aaron said with a smirk as he gestured towards the table.

He reached for the door handle when his boot fell with a light crunch. He paused a moment and lifted his foot to see what it fell on. A sealed piece of parchment lay halfway under the door, as if slid through the crack in haste.

He quickly opened the door and glanced around the empty hallway. He shook his head and slowly closed the door and picked up the letter. The others rose and circled around him as he turned the parchment over.

“Open it, Aaron,” Silas commanded impatiently. Aaron pulled out his knife and split the wax seal. The parchment fell open smoothly, revealing the left-handed scrawl of Ethebriel. He read the letter aloud.

“I am pleased to have had the honor of meeting with all of you despite the circumstances that have brought us together. I understand your pain and I sympathize greatly for your loss. However, time will not allow us to finish what we had begun.

‘Tarsha has fought this war against Abaddon for four centuries, and Kaanos has done her part to protect her. We have aided our allies as best we could, giving our blood to defend our freedoms. Each country fights their battles alone, unable to assist their allies. We fight disbanded and without hope. Tarsha will soon collapse due to its own folly, broken by the detriments of war.

‘Alone we fall, but together we may stand firm against the armies of Abaddon. We must form a united front if we are to survive. One would assume that amid the chaos, Tarsha would unite as we have in days long past, yet we do not, for pride and distrust burns unbridled.

‘Abaddon has realized this and he holds the probability of defeating us, one by one, to fight our own losing battles. This I believe is Abaddon’s design to change the tide of this dragging war to his favor. He will pick us apart, one at a time.

‘I however must do something to protect my country and keep Tarsha alive. Those of us who wish to do something about this war and unite the countries are few, but over time, we hope to rebuild the Alliance of old and stand firm against the might of Abaddon.

‘Lord Darius, King of Erias, is at the head of this reformation, gathering his armies and calling for aid to assist us in our struggle.

‘Several others have also agreed to assist in the reformation, including my dear friend Verin, King of Charun, as well as the country of Atuan in the eastern deserts.

‘In order to turn the tide of this war, we have decided that the only way to rebuild the Alliance of old is to send a group of warriors to the other countries of Tarsha, assist them in their struggles and unite them under the banners of Alliance.

‘As you might have guessed by now, I have chosen the four of you for this task. Abaddon’s forces run rampant and unhindered within our borders, preventing us from contacting the other countries and cutting off our trade routes, further adding to our need of a small group that can slip past their blockades.

‘Our lack of communication in this time of confusion has dealt us a fatal blow. We are now cut off and alone, we are ready to break. There is no way we can continue fighting if we remain isolated and cut off by the enemy that now swarms our lands. This is where you come in my friends.

‘Each of you is filled with a driving spirit of revenge that will push you to the very end, and that is exactly the motivational force required for this precise and difficult task. You are a very tight group of friends and have fought together in this war for many years.

‘You are bound to one another by friendship since your youths, and once again, that type of unique brotherhood is exactly what we need for this task. I beg of you not just as your king but also as your friend and fellow, to consider this task of un-paralleled importance.

‘If you wish to inquire more before you make your decision, I have asked a friend to meet with you at the arena. Please consider this task, my friends; it is of the absolute necessity. Tarsha needs you.

Ethebriel.”

Aaron finished reading aloud and folded the parchment, looking at his friends in contemplation. “Well,” he asked the others, “Should we meet with his friend? This is a heavy burden he wishes to place on us.” The others remained stolid.

Aaron fidgeted with the letter for a moment as Cain looked the group over slowly, “Let’s at least hear them out before we make our decision, and I have questions… questions that need to be answered.” He fastened his sword to his belt and opened the door. “Besides,” he continued, “he may even talk us into it. It’s not like we have anything more to lose.”

“Way to stay positive,” Joshua replied.

Cain’s company left the inn and followed the road for several minutes before reaching the end of the street and the foot of a large hill. They climbed it, and at the other side of the hill loomed the arena.

The four men approached the great stone building, its towering walls casting them in shadow.

They crossed under the massive archway that served as its entrance and came out into the expansive interior of the arena, awestruck at the size and splendor of the coliseum.

Several flights of stairs lined the arena, cut into the walls of stone for seating. In the middle of the arena was a large pit of sand, dug into the ground and surrounded by high walls that protected the spectators.

Cain’s company descended the stairs and sat near the wall on one of the steps. The entire arena was completely empty, not a single spectator to fill its seats. They leaned back against the steps and watched over the sand pit. They noticed a large stable attached to the south wall of the pit.

A faint noise filled their ears and suddenly the doors of the stable burst open. Several soldiers rushed out and dashed across the sand.

A horse then exploded out of the doors and thrashed frenetically about as the group of men held onto their ropes helplessly, struggling to tame the beast.

The horse kicked a soldier in the chest and sent him off his feet where he crashed unconscious in the sand several feet away. The horse bucked again and tossed its head into a man, sending him tumbling to the earth.

The soldiers eventually beat the wild animal into submission and strapped on a saddle and bridle, a look of fear in its once wild eyes.

They led the horse back into the stables and the wounded men were picked up and carried away.

“It’s always a shame,” a voice said from behind them. Cain’s company turned to face the source of the voice.

A man with brown, gray-flecked hair stood on the stairs above them. Lackluster eyes looked over them thoughtfully. He wore a set of Kaanos plate armor, its dull shades of brown and red glinting in the noon sun.

“To sap a horse of its will, to strip it of its freedom, to crush its wild spirit, that is always the result of breaking a horse to serve our needs.” The man stepped fluidly down the steps towards them.

“Yet it must be done to keep our lives mobile and efficient, to keep our country alive, because without the subservient horse, our nation would crumble. You see, they sacrifice for us.

‘Sacrifices must be made for the greater good, for the common interests of humanity. They must be made if we are to hold onto what is good in this world and make it a place worth fighting for.

‘That is the Warrior’s Code, a code worth living by and a code worth living for. It calls for you, my friends, to make sacrifices of your own.”

The man stopped before them and held out his hand. “I am the mercenary, Armeth, Ethebriel’s friend. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

They shook his hand firmly in turn and gave him their names. Armeth sat down beside them and sighed. He looked out over the arena for a long while before speaking.

“Well, Warriors, I have been sent here to persuade you to accept the task called upon you. You do not know how desperately Kaanos need you, how desperately Tarsha needs you. I plead for you to listen to what I have to say in the hopes that you may understand all there is to know and join our cause.” The Warriors nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

“Very well then. We are in the midst of a long and dark shadow. Four centuries ago, Abaddon began his war against Tarsha. Ever since his rise to power, he has been killing us off whether we fight back or not.

‘We have been forced to fight in order to keep our very lives, but now we grow haggard. Against an immortal enemy, we cannot win. Few question not why we must fight this war, why Abaddon hates humanity so, why we must suffer such a needless war. Yet, one question persists and is asked by all. How can a mere human live all these centuries? That is where the stories intertwine, where truth becomes lies and facts become myths.” He fingered the hand and a half at his side before continuing.

“The story of Abaddon has been hazy since its beginning, and even now, over four hundred years since its birth, the stories are still cloaked in mystery. How is a man able to live for over four centuries?

‘Some say he is not even of physical form, for none of us have even seen him. Some say a forgotten deity granted him immortality and boundless power in return for wiping out humanity for their sins. That would seem to explain why he so relentlessly pursues our deaths.” Joshua nodded to Silas as the mercenary continued.

“He fights not to conquer, he fights not for riches. He fights for our very demise. Let us not ponder these questions, for it seems fate will never deem us an answer.

‘One question we can answer however is his origins. Everyone has a beginning no matter how great you are, and he has tried every means to stamp out his past, and he has succeeded in this for few know of the truth. Yet, it has survived and has passed down throughout the generations.

‘I am one of the few who has been blessed and cursed with this knowledge, the knowledge of the very thing he fears, his own mortal past. This is the one weapon we have that we can use against him, the one thing that can help us end this war.

‘His story began nearly five hundred years ago in the grandest city of Tarsha, Morven. Abaddon’s true name is lost to history, but what we do know is he was a well-known and highly honored captain of the Citadel Guard, respected by all for his bravery and loyalty.

‘It came to pass that he loved the King’s daughter, Jocelyn Fallon, and she returned his love with equal passion. Her father however, wanted her to marry the prince of Atuan.