Garden of Bones (old version)

Prologue

The wheels of the wagon sloshed through the mud left from the night's rain. Aeron looked around the countryside; his hand rested gently atop the sword at his hip. The other caravan guards matched his rhythmic footsteps as they trod down the mud-laden road.

"Aeron," the second guard piped up. "Do you think we could stop for a while? I think I can feel my bones scraping my heel." The man pulled his armored foot free from the mud and looked at Aeron. "And this mud is driving me crazy."

"Not much farther, Caerwyn," Aeron said with a smile. "Once we've cleared these damned dirt roads and are on cobbles again, we'll stop."

Caerwyn nodded. "Good," he sighed, wiping a bead of sweat from his nose. He shot a glance at the wagon as it trudged on behind them. "What's this job?" he asked, jerking a thumb at the rumbling cart.

"Starsteel," Aeron replied with a shrug. "The stuff is expensive, so it's good pay; who am I to complain?" He looked over at Caerwyn, whose lips were pursed in thought. "It's headed for Castle Morgenstern," he added. "So to hazard a guess, I'd say King Morgenstern probably wants these for his army."

"I hear the Islanders have folks wearing entire suits of the stuff," Roderick said. "Tower Guards or something like that."

"Really? I should visit the Isles someday," Aeron laughed. "Maybe I'll come close to being as traveled as you by the time I'm your age."

"You won't come close to me in either of those," Roderick replied with a grin.

The three sellswords shared a laugh. With some joviality to be found, Aeron almost forgot about the state of his feet. Once the chuckles stopped, silence fell over the hills again. Aeron looked up at the midday sky; it was painted a brilliant light blue, like a robin's egg. The sides of his mouth curled into a faint smile. A breeze rustled the thousands of tiny green blades and tickled the hairs of his chin. The faintest smell of rain still lingered in the early spring air.

The cart slowed to a crawl as it came over the other side of the hill. Aeron looked out over the sweeping green fields; blossoms of red and yellow dotted the rich countryside. Even more encouraging to see was the thin trail of cobblestone that weaved its way through and over the hills. Aeron sighed in relief as he gazed down at the stones. Civilization wasn't far off.

"Bring it to a halt!" he called, raising a fist to sign for the cart to stop. The wheels came to a standstill as they rolled over the first few cobblestones. Aeron sighed heavily and removed the half-helm from his head. He shook his long hair free and blinked in the sudden glare of the sun. Elion was a deadly land in the winter, and just as bad in the summer, but the end of winter always carried a soothing zephyr. "Roderick, you take first watch. We'll move again once the sky has yellowed." Without waiting for the boy to salute, Aeron sat down and leaned back against the wagon's wheel. In a matter of seconds he had fallen asleep.

*****

"Aeron! Aeron, wake up!"

A voice cut through the silence of Aeron's sleep and a hand on his shoulder wrenched him free. He recoiled from the shining light as his opened his eyes, but they quickly adjusted. Above him he saw Caerwyn's panicked face. "Bandits, sir!" he said, having explained all he needed to. Aeron's eyes widened and he climbed to his feet. He felt Caerwyn's hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"Go after them, I'm right behind you," Aeron ordered, pointing away from him. He quickly located the source of the disturbance: a band of highwaymen coming over the nearby hills. Only five, he counted, but they had a tendency to multiply if one looked away for too long. The sword hissed against the leather sheath as Aeron drew his sword. It was a straight blade, unadorned by any heraldry, save for a single coin hanging from the end of the hilt. The symbol of a sellsword.