Beyond the Edge of Dawn Read online

  Kavan went through a series of stretches, trying to alleviate some of the tension in his body. Scars littered his lean, muscular frame. A spear thrust to his right thigh. A pair of arrows to the right of his heart. Sword cuts crisscrossing his back and chest. Indeed, the life of a Vengeance Knight was not for the weak of heart. Temptation whispered for him to return to bed, but he refused. He had many leagues of travel if he was going to succeed in finding the right ally necessary to confront the rumored evil hiding in the ruins of Gessun Thune.

  His thoughts wandered as he dressed, and he was surprised to find he was afraid. Aradain was a relatively small kingdom over a hundred leagues away. He’d been there once before. King Eglios had just ascended to the throne and was working towards his eventual reputation as a hard man. Three times, he’d led his armies to war. They were defeated twice. Kavan knew the ineptitude of their military made Aradain a laughingstock among the neighboring kingdoms.

  This was a common theme among the western kingdoms. Normally, he’d see no cause for concern, but the stunning victory of the third and final war gave him pause. The army of Aradain had virtually smashed the small kingdom of Barduk in a matter of days. Barduk no longer existed; it had become an annexation of Aradain. Eglios wasn’t known for his strength. Rumors of an impending invasion from the south had surely forced the king’s hand to desperate acts.

  Kavan knew he had no choice but to go to Eglios and learn the truth. Deep foreboding troubled him. Fully clothed and armed, Kavan gave Tarryl a final kiss and slipped out the door. The smell of fresh bread and roasting meat stirred his appetite. He made his way to the kitchens to fill his pack. The owner’s wife smiled and pinched him on the cheek before refusing his coin. After all he’d done for their village, a pack of rations seemed insignificant. He thanked her for her generosity and headed outside.

  The predawn air was crisp and burrowed under the edge of his cloak. Kavan briefly considered going back inside until it warmed up. When it came down to it, he was Gaimosian and unused to a life of comfort. This was what he was. Hardship was a constant companion. It made him harder while weakening others. The journey to Aradain was long and trying, and he didn’t know where else it would take him along the way. His conscience told him not to go alone, but he needed to go now. There would be time enough for rest when they laid him on a pyre.

  Deciding there was nothing for it, Kavan shouldered his pack and set foot on the road. Halfway through the village he passed the Constabulary. He expected Mun to be peering out from behind curtains but was surprised to find Chardis himself sitting on the porch in wait.

  “I figured you’d be sneaking out right about now,” Chardis said as he packed his short-stem pipe.

  Kavan placed a foot on the first step and eyed Chardis with respect. “It’s easier this way. The folks that don’t want me around can’t complain, and I get where I need to faster. It doesn’t do much for me to sit around and wait for things to happen.”

  “That’s no way to live a life, but that’s just my opinion,” Chardis commented. “You’ll be heading for Aradain then?”

  Kavan nodded.

  “Can’t say as I agree with that. Therdin may have been drunk, but I think he knew what he was saying. Aradain is a troubled land. Some folks say the king has gone mad.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I hope you find what you’re looking for. You’ve done enough to earn that peace already.”

  “It’s never enough,” Kavan solemnly replied. “There’s a chance that werebeast was but one of many. If that’s the case, there could be a lot more murders this side of the Spine. Someone needs to do something about it, and right now I figure that is me.”

  “You’re an interesting sort, Kavan. I’m glad to have met you. May fortune smile upon you.”

  Kavan nodded his thanks. “And you.”

  Stepping back onto the road, he let it take him towards what would turn out to be his destiny. Chardis watched him go before heading back inside. He fixed Mun with a stern glare.

  “I want you to take that head outside of the village and burn it. No one knows we had it. Am I clear?”

  Mun nodded without saying a word.

  FOUR

  A Noble Thought

  The pristine fields of snow stretched for as far as he could see. Sparse groves of pines and firs peppered the fields and rolling hills. Winter, Kavan decided, was his favorite time of year. Of course he could do without the cold, but a man in his profession wasn’t prone to being choosy. Besides, he’d always figured it was easier to get warm than it was to cool off.

  Endless leagues of lightly forested, rolling hills stretched off into the distance, reminding him of just how small one man’s problems can be. Since the fall of Gaimos Kavan had roamed Malweir in search of purpose, meaning. Cold injustice ran like a plague through what were supposed to be the civilized kingdoms. Finding employ was no issue.

  He’d been across the face of the world numerous times. A sad part of the life of what few Gaimosians remained. Thoughts of his homeland were forced deep, buried under the thick crust of a hard life few others bore. Kavan had been very young when Gaimos fell but that pain, that irrepressible sense of horror remained with him to this day.

  Born hard and toughened continually to the point where Gaimosians became the premier fighting force in all of Malweir, his peers had once been legion. Great companies were employed by neighboring kingdoms to quash petty rebellions or border disputes. Gaimos might have easily conquered the known world, but theirs was a force for good. Very seldom did their Knights ever stray from the path of righteousness. Which, in the end Kavan decided, had led to their downfall.

  Was it any wonder why so many kingdoms banded together to rid the world of the power that was Gaimos? Naturally it hadn’t made sense in the thrall of his youth. He was cast out from all he knew. Left to fend against the wolves of the world while the ashes of his people scattered on the cold winter winds. Humbled, and frightened to no small measure, Kavan walked away from what had once been a pristine kingdom, resplendent with statues of great warriors and thinkers alike.

  What he found elsewhere left ill flavors swirling on his tongue. Malweir was a corrupt place. Many kingdoms were mired with cruel politicians and half-hearted monarchs. While never hiding his true identity, for the sin of vanity wouldn’t permit such, Kavan took the odd job here and there until his reputation began to grow. It wasn’t long before he was sought after, and with good reason. Gaimosians were the very best at armed combat. Warriors without peer. His blade solved the problems of a great many all while claiming only modest recompense in exchange.

  Kavan learned, very early on, that money only went so far. There was no point in hording vast wealth while entire village languished under the yoke of indentured servitude. He took what he needed to get by, always keeping a purse filled, for Gaimosians were without home or land. They roamed the world untethered. The rest he donated to those in greatest need. Selflessness had ever been among his best qualities, almost rival to that of a master swordsman.

  His life took on no discernible pattern. As casual and free as the easterly wind just before dawn. He blew from kingdom to kingdom righting old wrongs and preventing new ones. As spiritually satisfying as his occupation was, Kavan often longed for that solitary life he so voraciously defended. Home and hearth were not in his future and truly only faded tatters of imagination from his past.

  He often longed for the day when he could finally lay down his sword and take up a family, a home, a stable environment to call his life. Kavan smiled warmly at the thought despite knowing it was far off, if ever. Gaimosians the world over, no one had ever bothered figuring out how few remained, continued on with their existence as if machines. If there was an endpoint, Kavan certainly wasn’t privilege to it. All he knew was the inexorable pull of some faceless hand continued to drag him forward through one horrendous situation after the next.

  When the time finally did arrive where he had earned the right to set down his sword, Kavan vowed to never l
ook back. But first purpose must be filled.

  He reined in his horse and pulled the round leather canteen from a saddlebag. The cool feeling pouring down his throat was refreshing, almost enough to help him forget the hardships of traveling alone across practically inhospitable terrain. Any simple pleasure taken from witnessing the vast expanse never fully translated to the reality of crossing it. And, even though he bore special fondness for winter, he didn’t relish the idea of marching across an entire kingdom swathed in snow and ice.

  Right now he wished for a warm fire and a mug of ale. The rest would sort itself out quickly. Melted snow dampened his boots to the point where he found it difficult to feel his toes no matter how much he wiggled and flexed them. Frowning, he couldn’t help but shiver as the chill crept up through his muscled frame. Kavan made up his mind then and there. It was time for a change.

  As much as he relished the thought of sticking around this part of Malweir and continuing his hunt for the werebeasts, he knew that the only true way to defeat them was by going to the source. Kill the host and the plague died. Thoughts swirled like freshly blown snow. Centering on his problem, Kavan recalled his conversation with Therdin.

  Aradain. King Eglios. Those two names overpowered his rationale. Was there some hidden connection between the werebeasts and the king of Aradain? Possibly. Anything was possible in this world. But what would Eglios stand to gain from such a...hostile relationship? Kavan failed to figure out any plausible answer aside from the collection of more power. Power, after all, was what made the world spin. He’d long figured that the sun would eat the moon if only it could catch up to it.

  Saying, for the moment, that he believed King Eglios had some nefarious purpose in mind, Kavan tried to think of how anyone could come to control such monsters. Malweir had more than it’s fair share of bloodthirsty dragons, demons with a penchant for stealing children, and just plain bad people, but very few had ever been able to control a werebeast population. At least as far as Kavan recalled. That Eglios could do so now suggested he would be in league with a darkness far greater than any the Gaimosian had fought in a very long time.

  Such conclusions led him down dark roads he was loath to travel. He was going to need help if there was any chance of succeeding. But who? Where to begin? Halting his horse again, the Vengeance Knight closed his eyes and drew his breath to bare minimums. Liquid fire sparked deep within his blood. Surging. Pulling. Leading him towards the southeast.

  His eyes opened with the shock comparable to being struck by a crossbow bolt. Pain intensified through his entire body. He began to sweat. Suddenly exhausted, Kavan slumped in the saddle to the despondent snicker from his horse.

  The bond. The blood tie that all Gaimosians shared. He had summoned it in the hopes of finding others to aid in his self-appointed quest. Normally anathema, working together with other Knights was his best and, most likely, only chance for success if the problem was as systemic as Therdin seemed to believe.

  Not that Kavan took the drunk’s words for granted. Men like that were always looking to improve their own station at the expense of others. Therdin wouldn’t have divulged such knowledge without the whisper of promise, whether from Kavan or someone else. It wouldn’t have surprised him if the drunk had been put up to it for some personal gain Kavan wasn’t privileged too. It was a sad fact he’d witnessed too many times.

  Regardless, Kavan abandoned the wasted thoughts occupying his mind. Therdin was in the past, an already fading dimension not worthy of remembrance. What little he had offered threatened to grow stagnant if Kavan failed to act quick enough.

  Southeast.

  Kavan glanced across the frozen hills towards the unseen horizons. He knew that imposing mountain ranges lay ahead, filled with rivers and danger. Beyond that was the great Jebel Desert, an endless sea of golden sands filling the middle of Malweir. He reached down to give his horse a reassuring pat on the neck. Having bore him through battle and travel, the steed was as much a part of the knight as his sword.

  “Come friend. We must go in search of even older friends. The desert calls,” he whispered.

  His horse snickered and began to plod ahead. There was yet many weeks of travel before reaching the near western fringes.

  FIVE

  Poor Timing

  Hours blended into days. Days into long stretches of seemingly indeterminable time that only a Gaimosian Knight could endure without fracture realities. Kavan and his ever faithful horse continued on, ever east in search of the closest Gaimosians. Deep snow drifts gradually gave way to jagged cliffs and mountain peaks rising high into the clouds.

  With only a silent horse for company, Kavan struggled with that ever present, if expertly hidden, desire to rethink old problems. Thoughts of what he might say, how he might react upon reuniting with old friends troubled him to no end. He hadn’t seen another Gaimosian in years, much less the one he had sensed through the bond. While not the warm-hearted friends lesser men might otherwise be, Kavan felt a closeness that could only come from sharing intense moments in death laced combat. To even consider working with his old mentor again after so many years was a conflict of emotions he wasn’t entirely prepared to deal with. Fortunately the weather was able to sooth his aching mind.

  Over the course of his travels he’d shed the heavy fur cloaks and now found genuine sweat making his skin clammy. Any grievance of the cold or penetrating winds of deep winter he might have bore were cast aside in favor of new disagreements over the humid nature of the lands bordering the desert. At some point since heading east Kavan came to the conclusion that, though he enjoyed winter most, he didn’t particularly enjoy trudging through six foot high snowdrifts or going leagues out of his way due to the unexpected avalanche.

  He rode into the border town shortly before dusk. Already his nerves were on edge. Having been here before, and somewhat loath to repeat the experience, Kavan came in expecting a fight. Not that there was anything special about this out of the way, virtually forgotten part of the world, but he’d been in several just like it and they were all the same. Searching the past, he recalled having to kill two men on his last stay.

  No doubt the past was doomed to repeat.

  “Folks around here don’t much care for your type,” a grizzled voice snapped as Kavan tethered his horse outside the lone inn.

  Winds howled down the road as if answering the challenge.

  Kavan’s head dipped slightly and his hand dropped to his sword. This took less time than he expected. “Folks need to mind their own business.”

  “Gaimosians seem to draw a crowd. Best you climb back in that saddle and head out, boy.”

  Turning, Kavan readied for the inevitable fight. Braggarts were good for little else than skewering with a blade, at least as far as his experience went. No doubt he’d make quick work of this one, provided he wasn’t able to drive him off first. He pulled an inch of his blade free to loosen it.

  Three men, all foul looking and ill tempered, were arrayed before him. One was missing an eye, the scars on that side of his face already faded. He was clearly the leader, for the others were almost skittish, as if they understood the truth of what they were attempting. Kavan pitied them. Almost.

  “This is your only chance. Walk away now and there won’t be trouble,” he warned, though deep inside he knew they wouldn’t comply.

  It was a sad state of the human condition when pride interfered with common sense.

  “Three on one is pretty good odds, even ‘gainst one of you.” He spat a wad of partially chewed iron leaf. The acidic flavor poured from his mouth in vapors.

  Kavan’s smile was grim, almost sad. “It’s really not.”

  He moved, seizing advantage before the others had the chance to react. His sword hissed free, eager to kiss the open air again. The Gaimosian danced with the skill and grace of a venerable warrior. A hand was hacked free. Blood curdling screams followed. A second move and he skewered the man on the right. Blade punched through flesh and bone befor
e twisting and jerking free.

  A rope of hot blood splashed on the one eyed man’s boots. He hadn’t the chance to close his mouth from spitting before Kavan’s blade gingerly touched him just below his one good eye. He began to tremble.

  “Not wise, friend,” Kavan admonished. “I told you to walk away.”

  Rage and fear conflicted in his eyes, but he was wise enough not to speak lest Kavan’s sword drive into his flesh.

  Kavan glanced at the man’s partners. The one had died and the other had fallen mercifully silent. His screams reduced to mere whimpers as he clutched at the stump of his arm. Kavan frowned, for there was no more distressing sound than a grown man whimpering.

  “See to your friend before he bleeds out.”

  He whipped his sword away and back into the scabbard. Disturbed with his actions, the Gaimosian paused before returning to his horse. “Do not let me catch you again. Fate will not be so kind twice.”

  Confident that no more would occur, Kavan went about his business. It was only when the growl of an empty stomach stole his attention that he realized he was famished. Room secure, he headed back out in search of a meal. He only made it a few meters before being confronted once more.

  “Well, well, I hadn’t expected to see you slumming in this part of the world,” a burly old veteran said with genuine smile.

  Kavan returned the smile and finally allowed his defenses to relax, slightly. “Dag! I was sure you’d be dead by now.”

  “Death doesn’t want me I’m afraid. But you, from what I hear Lord Death has been stalking you for quite some time.”

  The two embraced. Kavan winced from the force of Dag’s slap on the back. His friend may have been older, but he lacked nothing of power.

  “What brings you around here?” Dag asked.