The Ashen Brotherhood

Chapter 2: Blood in the Blackwood

Blackwood earned its name honestly. Even at midday, the forest swallowed light.

Caelan moved through the darkness like smoke, his footsteps were silent on the moss covered ground. Behind him, Rhen Thorne crashed through the undergrowth like a wounded bear. The young deserter had scouting skills, but stealth was not among them.

"Stop." Caelan raised a fist.

Rhen froze mid step. "What is—"

Caelan's hand clamped over his mouth. Voices drifted through the trees ahead. Legion patrol, three or four men by the sound of it. They were close. Too close.

Caelan pulled Rhen down behind a fallen log, his scarred hand still pressed against the younger man's lips. They waited in absolute silence as boots crunched past, no more than twenty yards away.

"—said the Shadow survived," one soldier was saying.

"Impossible. Commander Vane confirmed the entire palace guard was eliminated."

"Then who killed the search party we sent into the ruins?"

The voices faded into the distance. Caelan held position for another five minutes before releasing Rhen.

"They are looking for you," Rhen whispered.

"They are looking for a ghost." Caelan checked their surroundings. "The Shadow died in Valdris. I am just a man now."

"A man who just killed three Legion soldiers without them seeing you coming."

Caelan did not answer. That had been two days ago, when a patrol stumbled across their cold camp. He had moved through them like death itself, three bodies falling before the last man could scream. The efficiency had felt hollow. Killing Legion minions brought no satisfaction when Aldric Vane still breathed.

"We need to move," Caelan said. "They will have more patrols sweeping the area."

They pushed deeper into the Blackwood. The trees grew denser, blocking out what the little sun could penetrate through the canopy. Strange sounds echoed in the darkness, not birds or common beasts, but something else. Something that made Rhen's hand drift to his knife.

"What lives in these woods?" Rhen asked.

"Things that do not leave corpses to identify."

"That is reassuring."

By nightfall, they had covered ten miles. But, not enough. At this pace, they would never reach Aldric before his inauguration. Caelan's jaw clenched. Eighteen days had become sixteen. Every hour mattered.

Rhen started gathering wood for a fire.

"No," Caelan said sharply.

"We need to eat. I caught two rabbits this afternoon—"

"We eat them raw or not at all. Fire will bring every patrol within five miles down on us."

Rhen's face twisted with disgust, but he pulled out one of the rabbits and began skinning it. "This is how you survived for twenty six years? Raw meat and paranoia?"

"I survived by trusting no one and assuming everyone wanted me dead." Caelan took the first watch position, back against an ancient oak. "It has served me well."

"Must have been lonely."

The words struck deeper than intended. Caelan had been alone, even surrounded by the King's Guard. The Shadow operated in isolation, trusted by all but close to none. Aldric had taught him that attachment was weakness.

Aldric. The name still tasted like poison.

"Tell me about him," Caelan said abruptly. "When you heard him planning the attack. What did he say?"

Rhen paused mid bite, the raw meat halfway to his mouth. "I was scouting the border territories. My unit made camp near a Legion command post. I was on watch when I heard voices in the commander's tent." He set the rabbit down. "One voice was General Kross. I recognized it from briefings. The other..." He met Caelan's eyes. "The other spoke like a Valdris commander. Educated. Precise. He was confirming the attack timeline."

"What exactly did he say?"

"He said the Shadow would be hunting in Thornwood for at least three weeks. The king's personal guard rotates shifts at midnight. That the barracks doors opened outward, easy to block from outside. Rhen's voice dropped. "He said to make it hurt. To leave nothing standing. Those were his exact words."

Caelan's hands curled into fists. "And you deserted immediately?"

"I rode for three days straight. Killed my horse getting to Valdris." Rhen looked away. "My entire unit was executed for my desertion. Sixteen men. They lined them up and—" His voice broke. "I thought I could save your kingdom. Instead, I just got my brothers killed for nothing."

The raw pain in those words lingered in Caelan's chest. They were both carrying the weight of the dead now.

"It was not for nothing," Caelan said quietly. "You tried. That is more than—"

A sound cut through the night. Not close, but not far enough. Footsteps. Many of them.

Caelan was on his feet instantly, blade drawn. "How many?"

Rhen tilted his head, listening. "Six. Maybe seven. Moving in formation."

"Legion discipline." Caelan scanned the darkness. "They are sweeping the area. Looking for whoever killed that last patrol."

"We run?"

"Where? They have us surrounded." Caelan could hear them now, closing in from three directions. Professional. Coordinated. This was not a random patrol—this was a hunting party.

Rhen drew his knife. "Then we fight."

"You will die."

"Better than being executed as a deserter." Rhen positioned himself back-to-back with Caelan. "Besides, you need someone to watch your back."

The first soldier emerged from the trees, torch held high. Then another. Then five more, spreading out in a practiced encirclement. Their sergeant stepped forward, a grizzled veteran with cold eyes.

"Caelan Ashworth," the sergeant called out. "The Shadow of Valdris. Commander Vane sends his regards."

Ice flooded Caelan's veins. "He knows I am alive."

"He knew you would come." The sergeant smiled. "He knows you better than you know yourself. He trained you, after all." He gestured to his men. "Take them alive if possible. The Commander wants to speak with his former student."

The soldiers advanced.

Caelan moved first, his blade finding the nearest man's throat before the others could react. Rhen drove his knife into another soldier's kidney, the man dropping without a sound. But five remained, and they were ready now.

Steel rang against steel. Caelan parried a thrust, redirected another, his movements economical and lethal. Twenty six years of training distilled into pure violence. But there were too many, and they were spreading out, trying to flank.

A sword cut across his shoulder, drawing first blood. Caelan turned and disemboweled the wielder, but another took his place immediately. Beside him, Rhen was barely holding off two attackers, his inferior knife work compensated by desperate speed.

"We cannot win this," Rhen gasped.

"I know."

The sergeant laughed. "The mighty Shadow, brought low by common soldiers. How disappointed Commander Vane will be."

An arrow took him through the throat.

The sergeant crumpled, his eyes wide with shock. His men turned toward the source of the shot, but darkness revealed nothing.

Another arrow sang through the air. Another soldier fell.

"Ambush!" one of the remaining men shouted. "Fall back—"

A third arrow punched through his chest.

The last two soldiers broke and ran. They made it perhaps ten yards before arrows dropped them both.

Silence descended on the Blackwood.

Caelan's blade remained raised, searching the darkness for their unexpected savior. Rhen pressed against his back, breathing hard, knife slick with blood.

A massive figure stepped from the trees. Six and a half feet tall, shoulders like an oak trunk, carrying a bow that no normal man could draw. Dark skin marked with ritual scars, one ear missing. He regarded them with cold, calculating eyes.

"You are the ones hunting Aldric Vane," the giant said. It was not a question.

"Who are you?" Caelan demanded.

"Someone who wants him dead even more than you do." The stranger lowered his bow fractionally. "My name is Joss. And if you want to reach the Commander before his inauguration, you are going the wrong way."

Caelan did not lower his blade. "Why would you help us?"

"Because four years ago, Aldric Vane led the auxiliary forces that destroyed my kingdom." Joss's voice was flat, emotionless. "I watched him cut down refugees. Women. Children. My wife. My daughters." He met Caelan's eyes. "So when I heard Legion patrols were hunting for the Shadow, I knew what it meant. Vane's past has finally caught up with him."

Rhen stepped forward. "You have been tracking us?"

"For two days. You are loud, boy. You leave tracks a blind man could follow." Joss tilted his head. "But you fight well for a deserter. And you—" He nodded at Caelan. "You fight like death itself. Together, we might actually reach Vane alive."

"And if we refuse your help?" Caelan asked.

"Then you die in the Blackwood. The Legion has fifty men sweeping these woods." Joss shouldered his bow. "I know a way through. A path they will not follow, even if they find our trail."

"Why would they not follow?"

Joss smiled, and it was not a pleasant expression. "Because intelligent men do not enter the Scar. Not unless they want to die screaming."

He turned and walked into the darkness.

Caelan and Rhen exchanged glances. The Scar was legendary, a massive canyon system where entire patrols had vanished without trace. Cursed ground, some said.

"Well?" Rhen asked. "Do we trust him?"

Caelan looked at the seven corpses surrounding them. Aldric had known he survived. He had sent men specifically to capture him. The hunt had become more dangerous than he anticipated.

They needed help. Even if it came from a stranger with vengeance in his eyes.

"We trust him until he gives us reason not to," Caelan said, sheathing his blade.

They followed Joss into the deeper darkness.

Behind them, something began feeding on the corpses.