The Shadowbearer (An Aegis of the Gods Book)

Chapter 4

Kaden yanked on his reins and brought his horse to a jarring halt several feet from Stefan.

“What’s the matter?” Stefan was unable to see Kaden’s face, but from the way the Pathfinder kept his back straight and head high as he approached closer something wasn’t right. The Knight Commander tensed.

“Apparently your King has forbidden the Ashishin from entering Benez. He went so far as to banish any who serve the Tribunal,” Kaden shouted over the wind’s howls.

“What?”

“Word came by eagle sent from the Tribunal themselves. They ordered us home to Granadia immediately.”

Stunned, Stefan stared through the rain at his army. Nerian, What in Ilumni’s name are you doing? First, you recalled the Alzari without saying why and now you banish the Ashishin from Seti?

“I took the liberty of sending the Astocan survivors to Castere,” Kaden said. “Without Pathfinders, I wish you the best of luck, Knight Commander. May Ilumni shine his light on you.” Without another word, he flapped his reins and thundered back the way he came.

Stefan watched the man ride off. Without Pathfinders, they would need more than luck or Ilumni’s blessings. Managing the Alzari to make sure none went insane, or to limit the damage when one did, once again fell to whatever method King Nerian chose. In the past, none worked half as well as having the Pathfinders.

Kasimir rode over, his horse’s hooves splashing through puddles formed within the ruts from wagon wheels. “What was that about?” he yelled.

A hand stroking the stubble on his chin, Stefan gave a slow shake of his head. “Nerian has banished all Ashishin from Seti.”

Kasimir’s eyes widened. “Hydae’s Flames, what’s he thinking?”

Coming from Kasimir, the curse caught Stefan off–guard, but he sympathized. “I was standing here saying the same thing. The Tribunal won’t take kindly to this.”

“That’s an understatement. I wouldn’t be surprised if this sparked a war.”

At the words, Stefan frowned. “You don’t think that is—”

“N–No, it couldn’t be.” Kasimir’s face drained of color.

“Let’s hope not,” the Knight Commander said. “There’s no way we can win a war against the Tribunal with all of Granadia’s might behind them. Even Nerian knows that.”

“What if he believes differently?”

“I guess we’ll find out when we get to Benez. Is the cavalry ready?”

Kasimir nodded.

“Good, we head out now. Leave a quarter of them behind with the infantry and the scorpios. We can’t afford to wait. Whenever they make it back is fine.” With a jerk of his reins, Stefan set off through the downpour.

By the time they reached Konele’s outskirts, the rain was dwindling to a drizzle. The drum of hooves drew Stefan’s attention to a fenced field near an abandoned farm—one of the many in the area. Head down, a horse galloped across the muddy pasture.

A loud mewl made Stefan whip his head around in the opposite direction. Body a blur, a six–legged creature crashed through the fence. Splintered wood flew into the air. The beast slowed as it gained the field. Stefan recognized the mottled carapace, the humped shell on its back, the long swinging, snake–like neck, and a head with a mouth lined with sharp teeth. It was a dartan.

The beast stopped, peered at Stefan and his men, and then toward the lone horse. It mewled once more before bounding forward, muddy water splashing as its feet churned. As tall and wide as dartan’s were, one would expect them to be slow and lumbering, but they were as much that as they were docile. This one ran three times faster than the horse, and it was several times larger. Kept by farmers for their speed and strength, dartans needed to be beat into submission to maintain a semblance of control. Even then, such control was often fleeting. Yet their workload was worth the risk. Not to mention their use in prizefights.