OathBlade (Wattys2015)

48. Deep Dark*

Gaidel's knights threaded through the group with a majority at the front and back. Twenty paces into the darkness the rough scrape of the stone rolling back in front of the entrance preceded the erasure of what little moonlight touched within. All too quickly even the barest sliver of it was closed beyond their sight.

Utter blackness swallowed them.

The sharp hiss of countless torches being lit sounded off and Elery covered her eyes. The piercing flames lit the russet stone around them, marking it with deep black shadows in patterns not so different from Isandel's dragon markings. She gazed out through her slightly parted fingers to take in the sight of the knights and the world around her. It was a world of craggy walls and a wide, claw-gouged floor. Shallow, muddy water sat in the deepest scratches. No doubt rainwater that seeped through after the last heavy storm.

Gaidel's knights, laced among the few remaining Ildaugh knights, held torches high and began to march forward.

"I cannot say I enjoy it here," Zethir chuckled weakly.

He and Taelin walked beside Elery to her left while Dakkan rode atop Ishthemir a few paces ahead. Cylphi remained asleep. Once again Isandel held her on his back as he walked beside Elery on the right. She could not see Vydel, but the occasional rattle of her lingering chains assured her the drakborne remained in their company.

"Aye, 'ere innit any among us 'at do," a nearby woman spoke. "But beggers cannit be choosers."

"I've heard your accent among quite a few knights since arriving at Ildaugh," Elery said. "Where do you hail from?"

"Calisti Veil, M'lady," she replied.

"The kingdom to the north." She nodded. "I've learned of it from books, but I'd not known you speak with such differences."

"Aye, an' I can say the same of you, M'lady." She laughed, though the tone of her laughter was strained. "I fear me home be but a memory soon."

"You've no need to worry," a man said as he moved forward through the crowd toward them. "Gaidel's sent several of us up north to aid Castili through the Iligimoth."

Elery turned to watch him approach. He wore no armor, only black leggings and a matching tunic. It was far from the beautiful robes Gaidel and Isandel wore, but the silken texture of dragon hair was unmistakable. "You were our guardian."

"Correct," he said, slowing as he drew near to her. "I see why the king has taken such a liking to you."

"To learn the king is a dragon is unbelievable enough, but to know he keeps the company of others is far more surprising," Taelin said. "I'd not taken Suthri to be such a progressive land."

The man laughed. Unlike the Castili woman, his laughter was not weighed down by pain or worry. "You think the people are progressive? I think not." He shook his head and his ebony hair danced to and fro with the motion. "You are innocent despite all you've been through. The people do not accept us. They've no knowledge of us. The army trusts Gaidel, and by extension they trust us. He has been their leader far longer than many of them have been in service. Race plays no part in loyalties once you've proven yourself."

"How can you stand to protect people who would despise you if they should ever learn the truth?" Zethir asked.

"Despise us though they may, no seryn has ever raided our territory to kill us," the man replied. "We are left to the wild to raise our families without the pikes of hunters driven into our throats. The seryn are a people unconcerned with superstition against us. In our birthplace, our blood was sought as a strength elixir. Our horns were thought to grant virility. We were hunted for our meat, our scales, even for our very hearts. Our eggs were stolen, either for food or to be kept as treasure, and adventurous souls came to slay us for the treasure we were said to hold. Those who did not covet what we possessed feared us for our power. Either scenario ended in death. It was something many of us were eager to escape."