Oaths

991 Words
Oaths~ Brynmohr o’Berwyn Forest in Camran Brynmohr cupped his hands around a passing firefly. He peeked between his thumbs. The firefly lifted its wings to flash a yellow beacon. It tickled his palm, so he let it fly away to resume seeking whatever it was fireflies sought. He was exceedingly bored. Brynmohr rested against the trunk of a towering elm, one leg stretched down a branch as thick as his waist. High above the ground, he waited behind a veil of early summer leaves cast pale silver by the moonlight. The wind was picking up, carrying the scent of rain. A vanguard of clouds alternately hid and exposed the full moon’s light, sending armies of silver and black cloaks charging across the hillside. The faint crunch of hooves on dry brush told him the rider would arrive well ahead of the rain. Brynmohr scanned the woods until satisfied the man had come alone. The swarthy Camran passed beneath the branch, brought his horse to an unsteady halt, and glanced over his shoulder. He fumbled with the ties on his pack, set a lantern on the ground, and patted the pockets of his longcoat. One, two, three rasps of a sparker, and yellow light glowed around his crouched silhouette. The man carried the lantern into the clearing, illuminating slabs of weathered stone lying at an angle. He set the lantern on the nearer stone and sat with his back to the old elm. “I’m here,” he called out gruffly. Brynmohr stepped branch to branch, descending the tree like a staircase. His foot left the last branch and slid down mossy bark to the gnarled tangle of roots spreading out across the forest floor. Balancing in soft doeskin boots, he traced a path along the roots until he stood behind the man. “Show yourself,” the Camran shouted. “I won’t wait all night.” Brynmohr shook out the folds of his cloak. Copper and gold threads shimmered in the light. He waited. He rustled his cloak a second time. A strand of pale hair escaped his hood and danced across his emerald green breastplate. He rolled his eyes. “Psst.” The man jumped and spun around. “Mother of Aurel. How long have you been there?” “Longer than you would like.” “Damned bunch of cowards.” The man peered into the branches. “Afraid to show yourselves.” “We are patient. Disciplined.” Brynmohr arced a hand at the trees around them. Lantern light glinted off the copper and gold bracers on his arms. “My archers could sit on these branches for days, with nary a twitch. You would never know we were here until we wanted you to.” “Demons, that’s what you are,” the man shivered. “Unholy. Inhuman.” “We are, generally speaking, quite rational. Not prone to such bouts of superstition.” “We should’ve killed you off long ago.” “Your Connor king thinks not,” he said. “He’s named us a separate people. A historical relic to be left undisturbed.” “Connor in name only.” Lamar Camran leaned and spat. The lantern flame hissed. “Walter’s a Surdisi w***e through and through. If he ever came north, he’d die of a nosebleed.” “So he prefers the soft life in Jorendon.” Brynmohr shrugged. “Rhynn knees still bend to him easily enough.” “Rhynns remember. An oath is an oath.” “Ah, yes. Your oath. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Brynmohr drew a pouch from his belt. “Not for this.” He gave the pouch a shake. Clinking coins drew a glare from the man he’d bought. Brynmohr tossed the pouch, and Lamar made a clumsy catch. He watched the man’s jaw clench and loathing narrow his eyes. Then he watched him pocket the coins. “Always trust greed more than oaths,” said Brynmohr. “I have tasks for you. The Hawks will be preoccupied in Ochmoon. There’s to be a grand double wedding at Dundarien. Perhaps you’ve heard. No, I don’t suppose you’d be invited.” “I heard. Hawks bedding down with Iverachs. Camrans tried that some years back. Hope it works out as well for them as it did for us.” “Lothor should help himself to some Iverach livestock while the rhi is away. Inflict a bit of damage this time. Some crops trampled. A cottage looted. You’ll see Lothor thinks of this, won’t you?” The Camran spat at the lantern again. “I swore Iverachs would never stop paying for Dowan’s crimes. I don’t give a damn what you think about my honor. Your silver makes my revenge more painful to them than aught I could do alone.” Brynmohr suppressed a smile. He’d thrown another log on the long-burning fire he’d kept stoked for years. And this was but one of many fires. Men distrusted each other so readily. “I admire your dedication, Lamar. It shows a discipline I seldom see in men. But don’t stray too far from the script I bought.” “I’ll keep my end of the bargain.” “On your way, then.” Brynmohr waved him away. “We leave after you are well away. I believe we’ve established how little I trust you.” “Wait. The sower—” “Remains a protected guest of Twelvestones for as long as you both continue to do as you’re told. He is still seeing to his tasks.” “Your guests grow sick of their tasks in time.” Lamar stepped close. “If you harm him, I swear I’ll kill you myself.” “It would be most unwise of you to try. Someone might get caught in the crossfire.” Lamar lunged for his neck. But rage makes men predictable, and Firstborn are quicker. The man bled first and stilled against the edge of his blade. “The thorns of Camran only set one worthy bloom,” said Brynmohr. “She cut herself from the vine for the sake of her kin. Cowards watched her fall.” Brynmohr twirled the dagger’s hilt and backed away. Lamar crawled to his feet and staggered from the clearing. “Burn in hell, nene,” the man said as he spurred his horse to a gallop. “I most likely will.” Brynmohr blew out the lantern. He listened until he no longer heard the thud of hooves. Then he listened a bit longer. If the man circled back, his hearing would pick up the ruse. Lamar made more noise than a wild boar rooting through the woods. He glanced up at the surrounding trees. With a flick of his hand, he dismissed his band of imaginary archers. Only men gauge battle in numbers. That’s how we survive. The wind whipped up and tugged back his hood. The splatter of raindrops echoed through the forest. Brynmohr leaned his head back and welcomed the cleansing rain on his face. Chapter 16
Free reading for new users
Scan code to download app
Facebookexpand_more
  • author-avatar
    Writer
  • chap_listContents
  • likeADD