“The Tribunal has ordered us back to the Vallum. There’s been trouble at Ranoda.”
“What kind of trouble?”
Varick looked up then, his face grim. “Shadeling and Amuni’s Children kind. According to the report, the entire town has been wiped out.”
Ryne sensed there was more, so he waited. Ranoda was less than a day’s travel from where he’d left Jaecar, his family, and this Ashishin, Irmina. Being able to strike there as well as destroy Carnas and raid the farms along the Astocan border meant this army now moved on several fronts, and still their forces had been sizable enough to take a town with an entire Dagodin legion as well as one Ashishin.
“This Irmina I told you about delivered the report at the Vallum. She was the only survivor.” Varick’s blue eyes hardened, his gaze grew distant. “Lost a lot of good men. Men I knew. Some I trained myself. Her report claims your Alzari and his family were involved in the attack. According to her, she barely escaped the man.”
Ryne frowned. “I saw the man. He’s an assassin, sure, like all Alzari, but an ally of the shadelings? No, nothing I saw about him indicated such.” As he said the words, doubts skittered across Ryne’s mind. What about the golden-haired woman and how her aura simply disappeared? What of the recent odd sightings of auras that came and went like flitting shadows? Auras he somehow didn’t remember when he’d not forgotten a single one since he woke. Until now.
“Be that as it may,” Varick said. “I have little reason to doubt the woman if the Tribunal believes her. I’ve been given orders and I obey. We leave this morning. I called you here because they sent a High Ashishin to take me and my Knight Generals to the Vallum. They want us there yesterday. I want you to make the trip with us.”
The muscles along Ryne’s jaw tightened with his grimace. Varick was asking not only to expose him to a High Ashishin, but to allow the Matus to Materialize him. The last High Ashishin Ryne encountered, he’d killed the man. That act and the scores of Ashishin he’d killed in his refusal to be captured were part of the reasons the Tribunal sought him. Varick’s intervention had bought him a pardon until he decided he no longer wished to work as the Tribunal’s hand of vengeance. Until he made the choice to atone for the many atrocities he committed under their orders, for the deaths he reveled in when his power took him.
Varick paced to the tent’s entrance and peered outside. “I knew how you’d feel. But this man you can trust. He has no interest in what the Tribunal seeks you for.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Look,” Varick turned to face Ryne, his eyes pleading. “I need you. I’m getting old. I fear I won’t survive another war. I have a wife and a son back in Eldanhill. I’d like to see them again. Near eighteen years since I last saw them.” Varick paused, regret written clearly on his face. “There’s not been a greater warrior than you since the days of the Shadowbearer War when Nerian struck down all before him. Watching you fight always reminded me of him. The difference is you’re on our side. Not only will I need you to train the men, but should this army attack as soon as expected, we can use you at the front lines. I can use you and that brain of yours.”
Ryne closed his eyes, mulling over the choices. The very reason he intended to head to the Vallum lay before him. Vengeance for Carnas’ people. Now, he was also being offered a chance to repay an old friend who stood for him when no one else dared. But could he take such a risk? If he suffered one of his recent cracks in control when in the presence of this High Ashishin, there was no telling what he would do. Would the control he’d found first in Halvor’s Entosis then in the one Sakari nursed him back to health within, hold?
“Besides,” Varick added. “This way you’ll get to Imbuer Adler faster than you thought.”
Too many chances were converging at the same time. Ryne shrugged off his lingering doubts. A step lay before him to be sure he could master himself in the way he’d found in the Entosis. And another led to a possibility of discovering the past that haunted him. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”
Varick let out a deep breath. “Good.” His teeth showed in a relieved grin. “Well, now’s as good a time as any to meet High Ashishin Jerem.”
As if on cue, a gauntleted fist held the tent flap to one side. A frail looking man stepped inside. He appeared ancient, wrinkles and lines by the dozens marring his features. The skin of his face hung loose about his cheeks and neck, in stark contrast to the skin pulled tight and shiny on his hands. His hair, so white it shone like new snow, reached down to his waist. A long wispy beard adorned his chin and stretched down to his stomach. When the man’s gaze passed over Ryne, his thin eyebrows rose. A glint of recognition flashed across his eyes. Eyes as hard as ebonsteel that sparkled with a youth the man’s apparent frailty belied. Where silver flecked Sakari’s eyes, this man’s were pools of liquid silver that radiated intelligence.
“High Ashishin Jerem, meet Ryne,” Varick intoned with his head bowed.
Despite his appearance, and long, flowing crimson and white robe, the High Ashishin’s robust stride resembled a young man in the prime of his youth. “I have heard much about you.” He crossed from the doorway to stand in front of Ryne. His head barely reached Ryne’s chest, but if he was intimidated by Ryne’s great size, Jerem didn’t show it. He looked Ryne up and down as if inspecting a strange creature he’d read about. His eyes drank in everything.
“I’ve heard nothing about you,” Ryne answered. Jerem’s aura shone so bright he almost averted his eyes. Instead, he forced himself to ignore the glare and meet Jerem’s uncomfortable, assessing gaze. Even without his Matersense, Ryne felt the power rolling off the High Shin in waves. He tensed as doubt crept into his mind once again.
Jerem smiled, exposing perfect teeth. “My anonymity is as it should be. I tend to keep myself from the forefront.” Stroking his chin, he inspected Ryne once more with the temerity of youth rather than the caution of a seasoned old hunter, making several grunts of approval before he nodded to himself.
“If that’s the case, why’re you here?” Ryne snapped. He frowned. He’d spoken without thought.
Jerem’s expression soured. “To the point. I admire that in a man.”
At first, Ryne thought his response was his lust rising. But as in the Entosis, the feeling was buried deep down inside. Sure the craving resonated, but it did nothing more. His answer to Jerem had simply been his own annoyance. “My apologies. Events have been hectic. And if you know me as well as you say, you know I have no great love for Ashishin or the Tribunal.”
Jerem’s face brightened. “Hmm. I see you have some restraint after all. Good. You will need it.”
Ryne found himself intrigued. “Why? What do you know that I don’t?”
“Well,” Jerem shrugged. “If you are to fight again, if you are to seek the vengeance which drives you, you need to be able to control your power. Destroying entire towns would only serve the shade’s purpose. Not to mention, such events would turn the entire world against you. Being able to restrain yourself while the power of Materialization pulls at you will indeed be an important step in your growth.” Ryne opened his mouth, but before he could utter a word, Jerem continued, “As for what I know? I know events are at play here you cannot see or begin to fathom. A day will come when you will seek me. But until you learn to trust one such as me, that day is still a long way off.”
Manipulation, and feeling like his thoughts were plain, needled Ryne. He regarded Jerem with a flat, dead expression. “A day like the one you speak of will never come. Not after what your people did to me.”
“I assure you,” Jerem said, his face softening, his eyes piteous. “Those were no people of mine. For now, let’s begin anew with today, Ryne Thanairen Waldron.”
“That isn’t…” Ryne almost said it wasn’t his name. But Thanairen sparked a memory within him. A memory of a different time and place. Of a castle, courtyards, peoples who bowed to him. As quick as the memory came, it fled.