Empire of Ashes

Chapter XII - Highway to Hell

The scenery changed gradually from woodland to rolling hills decorated with fields. A handful of houses were scattered throughout, and those were the outlying farms of Duskos. Each had a meandering mud track, all feeding into the cobbled road upon which we rode.

The sun was high in the sky by the time I glimpsed my first castle. It was made from the pale stone of Cambrian cliffs, and it could have held my entire village five times over. The keep had been built on the highest of the hills so my liege lord could look down on us all. At its foot stood a small town, with houses of real brick instead of thatch and timbre. The northern warriors were unimpressed, and for some reason, they didn't share my excitement.

"Do you live in a castle?" I asked Temris.

He laughed at me. "Gods, no. Castles do little good in the north. Southern lordlings may enjoy burying themselves in stone, but raiders don't care to dig you out. No, the Sihons make an effort to pick on people who can't protect themselves like, say, any peasants who couldn't squeeze into the castle."

"They are useful against armies," I pointed out.

"Tell me, Lyra, did you find your liege lord's castle useful when the soldiers burned your village? They protect the few and make the many twice as vulnerable. The troops garrisoning that castle could be defending real people, not a lump of rock."

"You have some funny ideas," I grumbled.

Temris's eyes glinted. "So do you."

It was another half an hour before we spoke again. I revelled in feeling the fresh air on my face and the sun on my back. Occasionally, when the going had felt too slow, I had broken off from the column for a wild gallop through the woods, but I had always returned to Temris's side eventually. Once or twice, he even came with me, holding back Nightmare to Amber's pace.

The two horses raced alongside each other as if they had been born for it. Sometimes, near the end of the race, the stallion would kick at the mare and force her to drop back or swerve, only to slow and let her catch up again, apologising with a nicker. It felt almost ... playful, which was a strange word to use for a war horse.

On the last of the races, we rode well ahead of the column and stopped to wait for them at a winding river. I dismounted to stretch my legs but somehow ended up sitting on the bank with Temris beside me. The soles of my boots skimmed the surface of the water, forcing the current to part and leaving a strange stillness in their wake.

"I told you about my family," Temris said eventually. "Now it's your turn."

I glanced behind us. Fendur was a dozen paces away. He was never far behind the warlord, but he tried to give us as much privacy as he could. Now, he was discussing the finer points of swordplay with Bevan. They weren't listening in on our conversation, which was good, because I wasn't quite ready to discuss the people I had lost with either of them.

"My parents married when they were very young," I began. "It wasn't for love, but they loved each other well enough by the time I was born. My father was always laughing, always smiling. He was one of the most cheerful men I ever met. And my mother... She would sing when she worked. My sisters and I joined in sometimes."

The songs had been in Cambrian, the words and tunes passed down through generations. They were so much prettier than the rough Anglian ballads. We couldn't speak the language, so we had no idea what the lyrics meant, but we had been able to pronounce them well enough.

Temris remained quiet, his eyes filled with something that looked disturbingly like pity. If I had looked closer, I would have recognised it for empathy. I think I might have broken down into tears there and then, had I known that mere memories of my family could bring out emotions in someone who wasn't supposed to have any.