CHAPTER 19: THE FORTRESS OF SHADOWS, PATH OF THE WARRIOR
The Desolate Cistern
Today, the wind blew hard against the foundations of the world, reversing its path from the deep trenches of the Well of Justice—the massive, circular curtain wall that wrapped around the heart of the realm like the rim of a titan's well. We see Master Khyber, standing alone amidst the broken, pale-white ruins of the valley—the forgotten, desolate scar upon the earth from whence the beast Wyerald had come.
The Master of the Blind Crow Knights lingered at the lip of the dark cistern. Autumn leaves, brittle and blood-rust brown, rattled down the wet steps of the vault, vanishing into the subterranean deep. The air within was thick and stagnant, fouled with that same old, familiar stench of bat-guano, rats, and rot, heavily dissolved into the wind.
Khyber descended, stepping down the stairs into the throat of the cavern, going deep into the pitch-black deep. The heavy smell of carrion rose to greet him, thick enough to blunt and confuse his sniffing senses. He tilted his face toward the roof-tree of the vault, lifting his head to use his blind crow knight's heightened power of hearing and scent. In the damp dark above, he felt it.
Bodies hung from the ceiling.
They were the corpses of those very same church priests whom Wyerald had slaughtered the very hour he was freed. From an adjoining chamber close by, the musk-like reek of the beast still clung to the stone, sour and cold. Khyber knew then that Wyerald had been kept within this dark hole for a long time.
After spending many hours thoroughly searching through the rubble of the cistern, Khyber uncovered only this: there were four more vaults built deeper in the dark. The Master looked upon the dead priests of the church, their robes stained a ghostly, mildewed yellow. He drew his axe from his harness and swung it hard, hacking through the thick roots of the trees from which those cold weights were bound to the ceiling. One by one, the corpses dropped from the roof. He bore them outside into the ashen grey light of the forest, burying them deep within the wilderness.
Khyber drew a heavy breath and muttered to the trees, "A long noon's hard work for naught. No profit found." He had spent his strength searching those four other chambers too, but no living soul or beast had ever been kept within them.
The Road through the Shambles
On the other side of the realm, leaving the high, gleaming silver towers of Evergard Castle behind, the General turned his horse's head toward the outer perimeter, setting out for the great circular wall of the Well of Justice to see Daker. Within the towering, silent masonry of that ringed fortress wall, Daker's flesh had begun to slowly heal from his grievous wounds. The split bone of his shattered head was gradually mending. He kept to his chamber, built deep within the hollow sections of the giant wall, spending the greater part of his hours resting within its stone defenses.
Meanwhile, the General made his way through the narrow, crowded lanes of the city that lay enclosed within the circle. As he went, he crossed paths with Daki in the bustling market, vibrant with stalls of crimson spices, dyed fabrics of indigo, and the golden glint of copper wares.
The General looked upon her and said, "Daki, how fares the day with you?"
"I am well, General," she answered. "And how fare you?"
The General gave a small, weary smile, hiding the deep wounds and sorrow of his mind behind his deep amber eyes. "I am well."
Daki asked, "Whither do you ride, General?"
The General glanced around the busy lane, checking his surroundings, then turned back to Daki. "I am riding out to the Well of Justice. Would you care to take the track with me?"
The moment the name of the great circular wall struck her ears, Daki understood everything. A single name left her lips—"Daker." Without wasting a single heartbeat, she said yes. She asked the General for a short hour to pack her provisions and prepare her kit.
"General," she said, "could you step with me to my cottage for a short space? I must gather some gear."
"Very well," the General replied.
The General followed close behind Daki, leading his charger by the reins. After reaching her small hut, Daki gathered some loaves of food and took her iron apparel. She climbed onto the back of her great horse, slung her heavy gear across its frame, and set out with the General along the white road stretching from the inner city toward the distant, curving horizon of the Well of Justice.
As they trod the path, Daki turned to the soldier and asked, "General, tell me true—how many leagues abide between us and the Well of Justice? I have never journeyed this far west to the edge."
General Valerius answered, "If we keep a swift pace, we shall find the ditch beneath the wall by nightfall."
By the time the shadows grew long, their road had vanished beneath the quiet murmur of their talk, the hours passing until they knew it not. Daki looked up, catching her first sight of the massive, curved curtain wall rising through the pale evening mist like a mountain that had no end. "Such grand, towering walls!" she breathed.
The General looked at her. "Daki, you have little knowledge of this ring, I reckon?"
"General," she said, "before this day, I had never laid my eyes upon the Well of Justice. But my father spoke of its great stone circle by the hearth."
"Your father..." the General said. "What fields does he till now?"
"He has left this world," she said simply. "He passed into the ground a short winter ago. He, too, was a knight in the host—his rank was not great or high, but he was a good, true man."
The General nodded his head in silence. "And the mother? She yet abides?"
Daki replied, "The mother went into the churchyard the very hour I was born. My father raised me alone after her breath failed. And since his departure, I am left entirely alone in the world. Like him, I took up the harness and became a blind crow knight. The tasks of a knight bring in a few small pieces of coin, which keep the hearth burning and the expenses settled."
She turned her face toward the massive, curving ramparts. "It was a stroke of grace that Daker found his way to my house at the start of the tournament. It is because of him that I draw breath today. Had he not entered my gates on that eve, I would have taken my place in that bloody pageant. He saved my life, though he knew it not."
The General gave a slow nod of his head and rode forward. A short space later, they stood beneath the shadow of those massive, towering walls that enclosed the world.
Daki looked up at the moss-slicked, moss-green and charcoal stones and whispered, "It looks like a curved mountain carved by masons."
Seeing the General's deep-navy cloak, a knot of Blind Crow Knights stepped from the dark gaps of the wall. They bowed their iron heads before him and led the travellers into the deep, winding stairs built inside the thickness of the circular wall to see Daker. The youth was within his chamber inside the masonry at that hour.
Daki watched the guards pass, her eyes wide beneath her iron cap. "The Blind Crow Knights! Those very same Blind Crow Knights whose legends I heard in the tales."
The General turned to her by a narrow opening in the wall. "Daki, look through the casement."
When Daki leaned out to look down from the window, her breath caught in her throat and her senses reeled. She was at a terrifying height, looking down into the sheer drop of the murky, shadow-drowned outer ditch on one side, and the curved sweep of the wall on the other. Horrified by the immense scale of the stone circle, she stepped back instantly, moving far away from the window.
After walking a little further through the corridor of the wall, the General and Daki entered Daker's room. The youth was resting upon his wood-frame bed.
The General looked upon him and said, "How fares the blood, Daker?"
Hearing the General's voice, Daker rose from his blankets. Seeing the old soldier standing by his side, he threw his arms around him, embracing him close. "General, how fare you?" the words poured from his lips. "And where is Commander Seraphina? Why did you not bring her? And how is my mother? How fares her health?"
Then, his gaze fell upon the girl standing in the shadow of the doorway. He looked at her and asked, "Daki? You here? How fares your meat?"
"I am well," Daki said, stepping into the flickering amber light of the hearth. "I came to see you."
Just then, a black-beaked Blind Crow Knight stepped into the chamber and addressed the old soldier. "General, the meat is off the spit. The fellowship bides in the hall, and all the blind crow knights desire that you take your bread at our table tonight."
"Very well," Valerius answered. "Go you to the hearth; we shall follow shortly. Tell me, is your Master Khyber within the gates of the ring?"
The guard countered, "He hath not crossed the outer ditch yet, sir. But he will find his stool in a short hour."
The General nodded his head. "When his horse enters the court, tell him I sit at his hearth. Let him meet me."
"Aye, General," the knight said, and he vanished down the circular stair.
Daki took her seat beside Daker's bed, looking down at his grievous wounds. A small heap of crushed emerald-green leaves lay upon a trench-board near his pillow.
Daker looked at her and whispered, "Daki, would you bind these fresh leaves upon my temple? Take the old rag off for me."
"Aye, aye," she said. "I shall settle it now."
Daki unfastened the old linen bandage from his head, and as the cloth fell away, her very soul shuddered within her harness. His skull was split open like an old log; the slightest movement caused dark crimson, almost black blood to trickle fresh from the raw gashes. For any mortal man to draw breath with such a wound was nothing short of a miracle—yet here Daker sat, speaking of the wall-keep, and he could even walk slowly about the stone room. Daki worked with a swift hand, changing the linen and binding his head fast.
The Feast of the Scavengers
The General descended to the great hall built inside the lower foundations of the circular wall to take his bread with the Blind Crow Knights. It was a massive, vaulted chamber where long, heavy tables stretched across the flags, curving slightly with the shape of the wall itself. The boards were laden with a great store of roasted meat, and all the Blind Crow Knights sat upon the benches, their sightless faces turned toward the crackling orange and gold fire as they awaited the arrival of Master Khyber.
Within a short space, Khyber returned from his heavy labor in the forest beyond the rim. Even from a distance, his senses tracked the presence of the old soldier. He walked straight through the tables without a torch, taking his seat on the bench directly opposite General Valerius.
"The great Stallion hath found his way to this blind crow knight's nest at last," Khyber said, a grim edge to his voice. "What brings the vanguard to the ditch of the wall, General?"
Khyber poured two horns of strong, plum-dark drink, one for himself and one for his guest.
The General took the horn and said, "Aye, my old friend." He leaned across the board and asked, "Khyber, that business which took you to the valley—was the deed done?"
"Nay, General," Khyber replied. "I found the stone where the beast Wyerald lay trapped. I went into the deep of his cistern, and I came out with my skin whole—but I found nothing within save the rot of cold corpses."
"Corpses?" Valerius muttered, his brow furrowing. "Whose meat?"
Khyber took his heavy knife, hacking a piece of flesh from the bone. "Priests, General. The vinegar tang of their rotting flesh was thick, but the scent of the incense from their church clinging to their bleached wool garments gave them away."
The General asked, "What would the white-robes seek in that desolate wilderness?"
Khyber answered, "I deem that King Argus used those very church priests to crack the ancient seals of the vault. The priests drew the bolts to free Wyerald, and the moment that monster tasted the fresh air, he wrung their necks and hung them from the tree roots upon the cistern's ceiling like salt fish."
"And what did you do then?"
"I cut them down from the roots," Khyber said, wiping his greasy mouth with his sleeve. "I dug them a ditch in the damp, black forest loam and put them in the earth. That is why my tracks were slow today."
Then, Khyber stood, his voice rising into a roar that shook the curved rafters: "Eat, my children! The night is cold!" All the Blind Crow Knights dipped their spoons, and the feast began.
The Scroll of the Sovereign
When the platters were cleared, Khyber led the General to the high parapet of the outer curtain, at the highest catwalk of the Well of Justice's circular wall. The view from the stones was grand and terrible—looking inward, across the great expanse of the circle, the grand towers of Evergard Castle stood tall in the center, the silver thread of the rivers, and the small inner forests lay gleaming under the light of a thousand warm yellow torches; looking outward, the chilling, ink-black expanse of the No Man's Land stretched into the deep night, filled with terrifying noises, an eerie stillness, and a darkness that shuddered the soul.
Khyber turned his linen-bound face to the General. "Hath Daker drunk of the truth? Didst thou tell him of his bastard brother, and of that other bastard mother who abides in the shadows?"
"Nay," the General said, his hands tightening on the cold stone of the rampart. "The steel failed me. I had not the heart."
Khyber pressed further, "Didst thou tell him that his own sire—King Argus himself—is the monster who reduced Queen Isabella to that wretched state?"
The General shook his head, his voice flat with refusal. "Nay. That ledger remained closed too."
"Then what is thy purpose, Valerius?"
The soldier rasped, "I know not. Daker hath borne too much brutal torment and broken bone from that beast's savage strength already. I will not have him suffer more. His winters are so few; what is his age for such treason?"
Just then, a sudden, angry shouting rose from the lower courtyard at the base of the wall. A foreign knight had arrived bearing a royal decree, and the blind crow knight guards were snarling at him, their daggers bared: "Take your beast from our gate, or your blood will find the stones!"
Hearing the commotion and the bitter arguments, the General and Master Khyber descended the spiral stairs of the wall to the court.
The General asked, "What brawling is this?"
A Blind Crow Knight captain stepped forward. "General, this knight hath brought a scroll from King Argus."
The General turned his deep amber eyes toward the messenger whom the King had sent from the central keep. "What tidings does King Argus send to the ring?"
The knight unrolled the aged, golden-yellow vellum and read the decree aloud, his voice echoing against the massive curved masonry:
"By decree of King Argus: It hath come to the knowledge of the throne that the intruder Daker hath been saved and hidden within these walls. If you harbor the bastard seed any longer, the Crown shall withhold the stipend of grain and coin from the order. The Fellowship of the Blind Crow Knights shall be disbanded, and this great host shall be erased from the earth forever. The King knows Daker abides within your trench; cast him out immediately. If this command be defiled, prepare to meet your end."
The General stepped close. "Is there a second scroll? Or hath your tongue spent its store?"
"Nay, sir," the messenger whispered, his hand shaking. "The parchment is spent."
The General ordered him to leave, and the royal knight galloped out into the dark.
The General turned back to Khyber, his expression dark with gravity. "Who holds the tongue in this ring, Khyber? Who tells the King where the blind crow knights drop their meat? How does he gather the secret whispers of our every step?"
Khyber fell into a deep, brooding thought before he answered. "The common folk, General. I deem that King Argus moves not through his levies, but through the simple folk of these valleys inside the circle, so that our eyes look past them. I have a strong suspicion it is the work of certain farmers who sell their words for gold. There be many vibrant green fields spread across this border ring; when Daker was borne into our ditch, some clodpole tending his crops must have seen the iron feathers. A handful of silver from the keep will buy any peasant's tongue, says I."
The General pondered the words, nodding his head in grim agreement. "Your words have weight, Khyber. Such a thing is highly possible. There are many furrows along this ridge, and the farmers pass to and fro day and night to watch their crops. To find a spy among such a crowd is like seeking a leaf in the woods."
Immediately following this, Khyber struck his staff to call an urgent meeting, gathering all the Blind Crow Knights upon the highest catwalks of the great circular wall.
Khyber spoke, his voice carrying over the wind that whipped around the ring: "My children, for many winters have we guarded this limestone and the innocent folk who till the valleys inside our circle. We gave our very sight to the iron for this sacred vow. But today, a bitter hour stands before us, and I cannot frame a decree or make a choice without your steel and your counsel. Tell me, my children—shall we bow to the King's threat and cast Daker out into the No Man's Land, leaving him helpless before the teeth of those wild beasts? Or shall we brave the wrath of the sovereign and give him shelter within our wings?"
Hearing this, a young Blind Crow Knight stepped from the ranks, his iron beak lifted. "But Master... did you not hear the King's terrible command? His words were plain. If we harbor Daker here, our entire order will be dismantled and our name erased from the world. Our grain-wains will fail, and our coin will be cut off. What then shall we do? The grand sacrifice of our eyes will perish for naught, and we cannot let such ruin find our line."
Khyber stepped forward, his hand resting on the young knight's pauldron with a father's gentle patience. "Your fear is just, my child. But go look upon Daker's flesh. He is so broken by the iron that he cannot stand a single hour. If we loose the outer gate tonight, he will not survive a single noon within that cruel waste."
Hearing the Master's counsel and weighing the heavy circumstances of the hour, the Fellowship of the Blind Crow Knights muttered among themselves, reaching a hard decision. They came to a solemn agreement: they would keep Daker safe within the Well until his flesh was fully healed and whole. And more—for as long as he remained within their trenches, every knight would join to give him the true, deadly training of a Blind Crow Knight upon these massive walls. But the moment his training was spent, Daker must take the track and leave this place; from that hour forth, his life, his survival, and his path would depend entirely upon his own strength, his wit, and his destiny.
Khyber offered no words to the choice, turning back into the inner dark of the wall corridor. The General followed close at his heels. Within the small chamber below, Daker and Daki sat by the glowing red embers, completely unaware of the tally that had just been settled over their future.
Outside, Khyber turned to the soldier, his heart heavy with sorrow. "Forgive me, General. Given the weights of the world, I can do no more than this."
The General tapped his shoulder, his voice steady. "Despair not, Khyber. Heal his meat with all speed, and set your finest masters to give him the true discipline of the Blind Crow Knight. While he learns the stone of the ring, I shall return to the keep in the center to watch the broth."
The General returned to the chamber, looking down at the girl who sat by the wood-frame. "Daki, the choices are settled. Shall we take the track back to the inner town?"
Daki remained by Daker's pillow, her face set with a stone-like resolution. "General, I cannot leave him in this state. I shall bide here at the roost inside the wall and keep his poultice fresh. I am staying at the Well of Justice by Daker's side; go you to the castle alone."
Seeing the loyalty in her eyes, the General gave a slow nod of his head. "Very well, Daki. Let it be as your heart wills." He took his final leave of Khyber, mounted his charger, and rode inward through the gates toward the central citadel.
The Iron Crucible
The seasons turned with the slow, indifferent weight of granite. The autumn mist turned to winter sleet, and the sleet broke into the cold rains of spring.
Daker's flesh closed under the secret herbs and medicines brought from the waste, and his strength returned. When the meat was whole, Khyber told him the law of the Blind Crow Knights plain—that his time within the roost was spent, and he must leave the walls. For his shelter, the Master chose a small, abandoned watch-post that sat upon a narrow, secure crag half a league beyond the circular curtain wall. It was an ancient ruin of scorched black timber and dark slate where travelers of old had bidden before the western outer gates were shut. It lay upon the soil of the No Man's Land, yet it sat close enough to the Well of Justice to remain under its direct eye and constant watch.
Daker was sent to that lonely outpost, perched high upon a narrow valley. From that high crag, his eyes could see the whole world laid out clear—to one side, the great curving ring of the Well of Justice, and to the other, rising far in the center of the circle, the distant towers of his old Evergard Castle. Because his fort sat so close to the great wall trenches, he could cross the ditch whenever he pleased to take his lessons.
Each morning, Daker returned to the Well of Justice wall for his regular training. There, he and Daki worked together, first gathering from the Blind Crow Knights the deep knowledge of the mysterious, toxic briar-roots and herbs that grew in the teeth of the No Man's Land, learning their hidden remedies. Following this, Daker began his brutal, difficult training with the deadly knights of the order.
The Blind Crow Knights taught him to cling to the wet ropes and hang by his fingers alone against the vertical drop, to balance his weight upon narrow, towering poles fixed along the parapet without sight, and to cast his body from terrifying heights without fear. They taught him to climb the steep, vertical stone of the Well of Justice with the swiftness of a wild cat, and to drop back to the earth without breaking his bones. They cast him into the swiftest, most treacherous currents of the western river that cut through the wall gates, teaching him to master the freezing, crystalline rush and swim against the heavy pull of the tide.
Furthermore, they trained his hands to hunt the wild beasts of the waste, to lay his eye with perfect accuracy along the ash-wood beam of the great ballista mounted on the wall, to wield the heavy broadsword with both hands, and to take the curved bone needle and twined horse-hair to sew his own gashes in the field without a single cry.
As the wheel of time turned, Daker's frame grew as hard as the limestone, and his mind grew as sharp as a hawk. He mastered every craft of the Blind Crow Knights. When his full training was spent, he said his farewells to the wall and took his kit to that broken little castle upon the crag, making it his abiding hearth.
Following the secret orders of General Valerius, Khyber commanded three of his swiftest Blind Crow Knights to remain hidden among the rocks above the watch-post, keeping a constant, unseen watch over the youth. Even though his crag sat nigh the great wall gates, the ghouls and magical demons of the deep waste were ever hungry, and the danger of Wyerald still lingered in the old tracks, making this guard necessary.
And far inside the circle, down within the dark, saltpeter-weeping cells of the central royal keep, Commander Seraphina remained in secret contact with the General. Her low voice reached through the iron bars of her dungeon, instructing her husband as he brought her bread: "Tell Khyber to keep the wains moving. Let the necessary food and needs reach Daker's fort through the Blind Crow Knight messengers each week. And keep the knights ever ready in the shadows... if any power from the deep waste descends to strike Daker, let the blind crow knights fly from the wall to save his life at that very hour."
[Chapter 19 End]