The Shield of Weeping Ghosts - James P. Davis [94]
The drums grew louder with each passing moment, thundering in his ears, though the cries and groans of the children lessened. Their shadows faltered, drawing away from the walls and floors, as if driven away by something else. SyrolPs spitting and cursing ceased, and a look of confusion crossed his face. The pounding drums reached a deep climax and then stopped.
The shadows disappeared, retreating through the east wall as a profound silence filled the void left by the Creel's instruments. Duras released Syrolf as all attention returned to the doors and whatever lay outside. A chilling presence passed through the chamber and clung to all it touched.
Anilya stepped out of the shadows where she had waited out the possessions. With a word she melted the ice encrusting a small window near the doors and stared out upon the west wall. Thaena stepped toward the durthan and then stopped, glancing back at Bastun. Her eyes darted between Syrolf and Duras as if choosing.
"Syrolf, come with me," she said, and the warrior reluctantly complied. Though he was no longer manipulated by ghosts, they truly had only exacerbated what he already carried within him. Bastun understood the sentiment and regretted not a word he had said either. Thaena nodded at Bastun and added, "Watch him closely, Duras."
The vremyonni shook his head as the big warrior watched after the pair a moment before turning away. Bastun sat against the wall and rested the staff across his legs. Despite everything that had happened, he felt a bit more the exile that he sought to be, closer to freedom of one sort or another. Duras kneeled close by, staring at his bare face in silence for several breaths.
"Bastun," he said, his voice low and hesitant, "I don't know what's out there or what might happen before morning. But we were friends once, and I feel bound by honor to respect that friendship."
He paused, clearing his throat and coughing as if the words were stuck. Bastun's eyes narrowed as he waited. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear what Duras had to say. Growing weary of the past and secrets, one more reminder of why he had chosen to leave Rashemen might have proved one too many.
"There's something you need to know, something I have to say-"
Bastun held up a hand, cutting him off. "Keep it, Duras," he said, staring at the floor. "I don't need to know and you don't have to say it."
"No, I must-"
"I'm finished with Rashemen, with the vremyonni, and with the past," he said, coming to tenuous terms with the decision. "I may not have made any peace with it, but I'm leaving it. You should, too."
The big warrior's shoulders slumped. He sighed and stood again, clearly frustrated, but respecting his friend's wishes.
Left in relative peace for a moment while Thaena, Syrolf, and Anilya assessed what lay outside in wait for them, Bastun closed his eyes. The images remained, though the words were garbled and slurred, the language making no more sense to him than before. It was the names that he contemplated-and the history of Shandaular's fall as learned by vremyonni scholars.
The history claimed that the Nentyarch of Dun-Tharos, eager to complete his empire and expand to the far south, laid siege several times to Shandaular. The final time he sent Serevan Crell, his youngest son, and the attack succeeded in breaching the city walls and the defenses of the Shield. Most of the citizens escaped through the city's portal before it was shattered.
It had been surmised that Athumrani, Magewarden of the Shield, had accompanied the people through the portal in the king's stead. Bastun rested his hand on the Magewarden's journal and recalled the fear Athumrani had written about. Shandaular's people had found themselves in the savage land of the Shaar, far to the south, and called themselves Arkaiuns in honor of their king's sacrifice.
All of this Bastun had little reason to doubt save for one detail-Athumrani never left the Shield.
The Breath lay at his side, heavy against his leg. The mind that had taken him over and responded to Thaena's questioning