Unearth The Shadows

15

Heron Her Lomeon | 22nd day of Sprout season

A showdown appeared eminent when the blast of growls and gnashing of the canines broke out. Still, the wadogs never closed the distance between prey and predator, never advanced to the base of the tree where Heron and Davir stood. Despite their distinct stalking golden glares, the wadogs appeared hesitant, lacking the poisonous drooling Heron remembered from their first encounter, almost ten years prior.

Past the underbrush from where the beasts had emerged sounded rhythmic hoofbeats, punctuated with faint snarls. "Here! They found something," a deep voice announced in a shout. A horse cut through the shrubs, its fast gallop quickly turning into a trot. The sudden halt lifted dust off the ground. Heron understood it has never been their flesh the canines wanted.

A man in the uniform of the Superior Guard stood proud in front of them. On the sides of his saddle hung thick bunches of chains. He drove his horse into a full circle as if consciously flaunting the line of dark emerald stones glinting on the belt buckled around his waist. "Enough," the man bellowed to the dogs and the barking ceased at once.

He jumped down his horse, dangling chains chinking and metallic soles crushing twigs and rock. He stared directly at Heron, a frown twisting his face. Meek at his sight, all the wadogs turned to the man, wagging what was left of amputated tails as they gathered around his feet. The man gave his hand to be licked by the pack and took off his headpiece to expose a hairless head.

He bowed to Heron, his head glinting even under the dimness of dawn. "Lord her Lomeon," the man said, satisfied, with that familiar smile that always seemed about to break into a chuckle. "It's been a long time since we last crossed paths, my Lord. I still believe it's such a pity Lord had to miss military school."

"I had no say on that," Heron uttered exactly the same words he'd last said to the Brigadier when he had last touched on the subject. "It would have been an honor to be trained by you for my military instruction in Anuteh, but my Master decided I was not ready."

"Of course, your Master knew best," he said. "It would have been cruel to send a grieving boy alone to the south. But still, it's a pity." He recited his part of the script too. Until the next time, Heron had the displeasure to meet him again. The brigadier turned to Davir and introduced himself, "Sir Kerm. Brigadier of the barracks of the city of Ceres." He studied Davir intently, seemingly pondering on his words before he finally said, "And you must be soldier Davir, you. Such a pity this is how we meet. Brigadier Jallon of the royal domain had great projects for you."

Davir kept his silence and simply bowed to the captain.

The brigadier's initial call had been heard. A second horse ran past the bushes. Master Salmior came into view. The mere sight of the old man caused a heavy silence as painful as the wound on Heron's leg. The bottle of water hanging on the saddle of his horse immediately reminded Heron of his thirst.