Earthbound, p.11
Earthbound, page 11
The bolt hit Knox square in the chest, and he dropped. Vision blurring, his body convulsed of its own accord. Strength mattered little as he writhed, helpless, on the ground.
The captain let out a long, loud laugh. “Mer’ek is the best boltman in our unit. Better to charge an angry granits than him.”
Knox had taken bolt blasts before. The energy they discharged was enough to knock down an average person, but never an Overseer. What this Mer’ek carried was something new entirely. He should have been tipped off by the radiant gold hue rather than the typical blue.
The captain continued to gloat, but the words sounded far off, as he instructed the others to put Knox in restraints.
Knox pulled in a slow breath and marshalled his body back under control, letting the Sky’s power do its healing work. He lay for a moment, face in the dirt, as his hand reached into the vegetation searching for something to use as a weapon. His fingers curled around a gnarled piece of root. The broken shard of wood wasn’t long, but the knot on the end was dense and weighted.
In a lightning motion, he regained his feet and brought the short club up and into the raider nearest him. The force collapsed the man’s face into his skull, and he fell dead without uttering a sound. Knox spun back to face the bolt man and noted the captain’s suddenly pale face.
Mer’ek slung another bolt towards him, but this time Knox was ready. As the yellow ball of energy streaked in his direction, he flung himself into a spinning roll through the air and escaped its touch. He charged the next raider, club connecting with his head to much the same effect as the first, leaving a second grisly heap on the ground in a matter of heartbeats.
Another bolt hissed through the air and Knox slipped to the side, letting his momentum carry him forward as he dropped to his hip and slid to the bolt man’s feet. In a singular motion he stood and brought the gnarled club into the man’s bottom jaw, sending the man flying backwards, bolt thrower dropping from his hand.
Knox turned back to the Captain whose eyes now held the proper amount of fear. “The Sky needs no army,” he said coldly. “And as satisfying as it would be to send you off to your Commander with such a message,” he stepped toward the burly man, “it could be seen as mercy, and there is no mercy here for you.”
The Captain crouched and held his long pole at the ready, using his other hand to pull free his own bolt. The coalesced energy flew wide and Knox closed the distance between them in three quick strides.
The Captain was an imposing man, but his strength was nothing before the augmented power of an Overseer. Knox snatched the end of the long pole, pulling it from his grip as if from a child and in one continuous motion, he spun the weapon in a wide arc before driving the point up under the captain’s bronze chest plate.
The commander sputtered, flecks of blood colouring his lips before dropping to his knees.
“Let the Earth goddess have you. Maybe she’ll let you be her slave,” Knox spat with contempt. He pushed the pole, driving the man to his back before releasing it. Still holding the gnarled root, he took off after the raiders who pursued the children.
He needn’t have worried. The children had vanished and the Tumultian patrolmen wandered aimlessly searching for a trail. They fell before his new weapon as easily as their peers, and with even less noise. He looked at the simple club appreciatively, although now covered with gore, it had held up surprisingly well. No wonder Tehran loved his Starr. Knox had always preferred a tipped long pole or blade; fast and lethal when needed, and considerably less messy. Still, there was something compelling about breaking those who broke his people with a piece of their own earth.
He looked down at himself, the dried mud and dust all now coloured crimson. He wiped the back of his hand across his face, clearing blood that dripped down his forehead, never feeling cleaner.
Under The Sky
Knox
Knox found a small creek and slowly rubbed the blood and gore from his skin. He pulled his tunic up over his head and let it lay in the gently running water while he washed. It wouldn’t get completely clean, but it would keep the flies from assaulting him while he searched for the camp. He watched red streams run in rivulets down his arms as he poured the water over himself by the handful.
He’d never gloried in killing, but today it burned in him with a righteous fury.
Crouched before the water, he felt oddly at peace. This season had reshaped him more than any other, these past days even more so, bringing clarity to what was important and worth fighting for. His breath came easy, not delighting in the deaths, but knowing those he protected were safe.
He lifted the shirt and began rubbing it against a large stone, working out the gore. He wondered what Loghin’s reaction would be at his actions and if this would set them at odds once again. He had very specific ideas on who Knox was meant to be. Was a ruthless killer one of them?
He pulled at his strength as he wrung the shirt dry for no other reason than he could. Stubborn moisture dripped from the fabric. After months of living without it, he relished the flush of heat under his skin. An old confidence sparked to life. He was once again capable of changing the world, and more so, charged to, how and where he saw fit.
He pulled the damp tunic back over his head and glanced at the bloodied club next to him. Most of the sharp edges and stray roots poking free of the central knot had been knocked free leaving a dense ball on a short, thick shaft. He grabbed the stalk and tested its weight in his hand. It was heavy but surprisingly balanced.
He dipped it into the creek. As the blood rinsed free the colour became vibrant, a deep golden sheen with darker grain lines swirling around knots as they twisted into one another. He pulled his newly christened weapon from the water with an odd sense of satisfaction and began moving in the general direction Ehlle had indicated.
To the group’s credit, he would not have found the camp on his own. He wandered the trails until a young man in his late adolescence stepped from a thicket of brush. Knox spun to face the sound; gnarled root raised. The young man’s eyes flicked wide with surprise, but he didn’t jump or flinch away. Instead, he met the root with his long pole. The hand-crafted weapon was sharp and the stave sound. A crack split the air as the two pieces of wood met.
“Knox?” he asked through gritted teeth, pushing his weight into the pole.
Knox smiled internally at the young man’s grit. “That’s me.”
“Who found you and your friend?”
“Ehlle and Gavriel.”
The boy relaxed his grip and returned the long pole to an upright position. He scanned the trail behind Knox carefully. “And those following you? Ehlle said there were at least four or five.”
“Six. All returned to the earth,” he said.
The boy’s eyebrow raised slightly, but he said nothing more on the matter. “Follow me, Overseer. My name is Syracuse.” He led Knox along a tangled, seemingly invisible path.
“Did my companion make it to the healer?” Knox asked.
Syracuse nodded. “He is with her now.”
Relief buoyed his spirits. Considering how much he disliked the man days ago, he couldn’t deny the genuine concern for his wellbeing. They had survived the impossible together.
After following the young man in silence for a time, they entered a narrow clearing. The camp had little to give it away. No stilted buildings or hanging tents, only small smokeless cook fires and a handful of weary looking people. Most seemed to be noticeably young or past their prime.
Gavriel spotted them and came bounding over, all elbows and knees. “Did you end them, Overseer?” His eyes grew round with wonder as he noticed the knotted root Knox still held. “With that?”
The words sounded dark from his young lips.
“They won’t find us,” Knox said, avoiding the question.
The boy’s face grew serious. “They deserve to rot.”
Syracuse nudged the boy. “Go tell Una we are back. We’ll be up in a bit.” Again, the regional accent added a lilt to the words Knox had trouble following.
Gavriel balked at the order, scowling at the older boy. “I just came down.”
“Go,” Syracuse gave him a gentle push and the boy ran off and disappeared behind a large tree.
“Where is he going?” Knox asked curiously.
Syracuse tipped his chin skyward. “Up there.”
Knox looked up to foliage so dense he could not make out more than a few small patches of sky. “I don’t see anything.”
Syracuse grinned proudly. “It started small, but we have enough platforms now to fit everyone. We’ll go up once we get you something to eat.”
At the mention of food, Knox’s stomach growled loudly, but his step faltered.
Syracuse noticed. “Don’t worry, Overseer. We know the vows. A fire has been made for you to prepare your own meal in peace.”
“Thank you,” Knox said. “The children said your Overseer was taken.”
Syracuse’s face darkened and transformed him into a dangerous looking young man. “That was the first move they made against us. They came as merchants, but during the welcoming feast they subdued Haddie. None of us know how they managed it, but they made a show of holding her bound, before carting her off into the Tumult a few days later.”
Knox’s jaw flexed; he had no guess as to how the Tumultians could manage such a feat, and it bothered him. “Do you know if Haddie’s oaths were intact? Did you notice her strength waning?”
“She helped unload wares that very night. She had only recently returned from the Capital after taking her final vows. Her Matrem stayed behind.”
New and untried, up against an aggressive raid. Knox grimaced.
Syracuse rubbed the bridge of his nose, his eyes turning glassy. “We tried to fight, but they overpowered us. Most were killed in those first days. The army arrived not long after.”
“Army?” Alarm ran like tingles up his spine.
“Last count, it was in the thousands.”
Tumultians didn’t amass in force. Individual clans frequently pushed inland from across the Tumult. But an entire army? Sky help us. New weapons and now this? The whole region could be in more trouble than he imagined. “Did they make any formal declarations?”
“Nothing more than claiming this was their land. We’ve lived here for generations beyond memory,” he said hotly.
Knox gestured around at the camp. “This is all who escaped?”
Syracuse nodded. “I was sent to hide my brother and sister when the fighting started. Una found us not long after. She’s the one tending to your friend.”
Pieces began to click together. “Ehlle and Gavriel are your siblings?”
“I wanted to fight, but my mother made me swear to the Sky to protect them.”
“And you honoured your oath,” Knox said, seeing the boy’s frustration. “No one can ask more of another than that.”
Syracuse straightened at the comment. “Thank you, Overseer.” He pointed to a small fire and a collection of ingredients gathered on an old stump. “If you need anything else let me know. We don’t have much, but what we have is yours. I’ll wait back at the oak for you.”
“Thank you,” Knox said, and the young man turned and walked away without further comment.
The lack of food didn’t weaken him, at least it wouldn’t for a long while, but with his strength came a near bottomless appetite. Knox eagerly set to work.
Emilia had often teased him that the cluster had to grow an extra field to keep him fed. Luckily, when he gave up his strength his appetite had diminished, or they would have been destitute. He selected several items, dropped them into the pot, and added a thin covering of water, letting the simple collection steam while he stared into the flames beneath.
His thoughts drifted to Emilia. He could only hope she was safe and finding comfort with her family. Suddenly restless, he hurried through eating.
Syracuse waited at the large oak in exaggerated casualness.
“Thank you for the meal.”
“Our pleasure, Overseer.” He pushed himself to his feet and gave Knox an eager grin, motioning him to follow. He led them around to where a rope ladder hung. Thick branches made up the rungs and were worn smooth from use. Syracuse stood to the side allowing Knox to go up first.
At ground level, the camp was dim and cut off from the sky by the thick canopy. Now, as he reached the top of the ladder and stepped onto a solid landing Knox could see the camp was merely in the shadow of cleverly-woven platforms. Wide walkways and circular decks were built wherever the orientation of the trees allowed. Up here, the sky was bright above them and the air moved gently through the leaves, rustling a welcoming song.
Syracuse led Knox to a covered platform. The short roof had him ducking to enter the space, and he couldn’t help but think of how low Tehran would have had to bend to enter the room.
A silver-haired woman met them and bowed low. “Thank you, Overseer, for protecting my grandchildren.” Her voice carried the same lyrical tone as the others, though with the added gravel of age.
“Una, I am the one indebted. Their bravery saved us a very unpleasant welcome.”
She bowed again slightly and smiled. “I’ve seen to your companion. His chest is badly damaged, but if we can keep the fluid from his lungs, he will return to strength.” Her tone shifted and she pointed to a pile of blankets and pillows and motioned for him to sit. “Tell me how you came to be here.”
“Loghin said nothing?”
“Would I be asking if he did?” Her silver eyebrow lifted in mild admonishment. “I gave him something to help him sleep.”
He dipped his head in apology. “My mistake, Una.”
“The children said you were fighting a brecka.” She looked to be waiting to be corrected.
“I don’t know its true name, but I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You must be from the interior not to know the name of the greatest earthbound.”
“I am. We’ve never had one in our valley before. Are they common here?”
“Pah,” she spat. “Of course not. They live for the deep, unrestricted earth of the Tumult. We didn’t see them until the first signs of spring. It made trade very difficult; no one wanted to travel. Then the Tumultians arrived. Didn’t the Order send you for this very reason?”
His stomach soured at her assumption. Displaced and vulnerable; of course they were awaiting the Order to come and set things right. With a sinking dread, he realized these refugees weren’t fleeing; they were biding their time. “I’m afraid not.”
With deliberate detail, he retold all that had happened in Rikken, starting with the downed communication and ending with his time within the earthbound. “The Order has no idea what is happening here in the Reaches. We are on our own.”
Una shook her head. “Not alone. The Sky clearly sent you to us.”
Knox bit back his objections. How could he rob her of her last thread of hope? “Possibly.”
“Rikken?” Syracuse spoke up from his place near the door. “Isn’t that near the Capital?”
“Still a full week’s journey using the main roads and a decent hovercraft.”
Syracuse laughed. “Half the journey of ours still.”
“Where are we?”
“Beryl—well, near it,” the boy answered.
Knox slumped back against the pillows. “I had thought the creature had brought us as far as maybe Twyri or Mesas. I had no idea we moved so far north.” He sat quietly in his own thoughts. The most direct route back to the Tumult would have been through Twyri. Why did the beast go north?
The answer came to him almost as quickly. The creature hadn’t avoided Aegis Lake or the mountains and taken the most direct line back to the Tumult. It took us under the mountains to the lake. The thought made his blood go cold. “Una, do you know if brecka travel through water?”
She considered his question. “The Tumult by its nature is wetland. I don’t see why not.”
Knox inwardly cursed. “Of course they can,” he said, feeling foolish.
“Some say they rise as much as they do because they need the sky. The wet earth makes them long for it.”
Knox closed his eyes in thought. “When they need to breathe, they resurface.” He thought about his days in the beast. If it had resurfaced, he hadn’t felt it. The puffs of air. He’d assumed they were vents into the cave, but it was the earthbound breathing.
“Breathe and hunt,” Syracuse added darkly.
“That doesn’t explain why they are suddenly moving inland.”
“They aren’t moving on their own,” Una said. “The Tumultians move them.”
Knox’s eyes snapped to the old woman. She sat cross-legged in perfect ease, as if her statement was not the most ridiculous thing to have been spoken in the open air. “What do you mean?”
“The Tumultians have great hovercraft they use to push the earthbound inland. It is the first prong of their assault,” Una said.
Knox leaned forward. “Tell me everything.”
Syracuse related in detail all they had witnessed over the past weeks and Knox’s stomach dropped at the picture it painted.
“Their hovercraft extend energized probes into the earth and create liquefactions. They’re driving earthbound from the Tumult to push into the Mercurial.”
“It’s impossible,” Knox breathed. Liquefactions were the power of the Earth herself, given to her earthbound creatures, not something replicable by technology.
“I’ve witnessed it firsthand. The Tumultians use the craft to herd earthbound of all sorts before them like cattle,” Una assured.
“How many craft do they have that can do this?”
“Most? All?” Syracuse’s forehead pinched and he looked to Una, she nodded in agreement. “They travel in groups of eight to ten and create a perimeter around the creatures. I’ve seen two caravans leave through Beryl, but more are always arriving from across the Tumult.”
