The Chronicles Of The Council #1: The Sun's Tears

Chapter 9: Caith - Events

"You have power over your mind – not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength." – Marcus Aurelius

Raven's Peak, Ardam 40

Caith sat in his tent – hunched over maps of Ligtland. Something about the war just didn't make sense, but he couldn't figure it out. Why would Darkeland attack now?

"Caith, we'll need more arrows."

Caith looked up from the maps at Walter seated at another table in the tent.

"We had them delivered the day before the battle."

"I know, but my calculations put us short of them."

Caith took his hair in his hands. He was missing a vital piece. Another player?

"Walter, have we had word from that last mission?"

"Not even a ripple of water."

Someone was betraying secrets to the enemy. He smiled. That was what he was missing: a traitor. Someone high up. 

He would first clear those of his Order before accusing the others. It wouldn't be Walter.

He smiled as he recalled the day Walter reported for duty.

Caith looked at the brown-haired youth in front of him. He had the most unique blue eyes, well not exactly unique. Caith saw that eyes every time he looked at his own reflection.

"So, tell me your name," he said as emotionless as possible.

"I am very honoured to be considered for the order. I know few humans are ever admitted to the order."

The boy was nervous. He stuttered.

Caith wanted to laugh at the boy. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of this situation. Caith had just officially met the boy, and he already he had crept into Caith's heart.

"Your name," Caith asked again.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I babble when I am nervous and I am very nervous now. My name, sir. I am Walter, sir."

"Walter. And your last name?" Caith enquired gently.

"I am just Walter, sir."

"You do not have a father?"

"I have a father. He just did not stay to give me his name, sir."

The boy had a sense of humour.

"From where are you, Walter Not-Named?"

He didn't address the boy as Caith was addressed: Caith No-Name.

"I am from Clearview-Riversmeet, sir. But you have probably never seen it, sir, or heard of it, sir."

Caith laughed. "Please stop with all the sirs. And I have been to Clearview-Riversmeet. It is a delightful little town."

"I know! I love it."

"You have come very far from home, Walter."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. No more sirs, sir."

Then the boy laughed. It sounded so alike to Caith's own laugh.

"I have come very far from that delightful little town. My mother always told me that I could be more than just a farmer. She told me that I could be a great soldier."