The Knife's Edge

Chapter Twenty-Four

The Courtyard

The guard pulled Gray to a halt.

They were on the keep upon the hill, and had taken a circuitous route through various courtyards and hallways to get here. Ahead, a series of stairs led to a training yard open to the bright night sky. It was filled with men and women in rings. In one, a man instructed while others sparred. On the far side of the yard, men faced stacks of hay with bow and arrow. Despite the time of night, the grounds were alive with energy, and shouts filled the air. A full moon and orange paper-lanterns lit the scene.

“She’s waiting for you, over there,” said the guard, pointing.

“Are you going to give me my sword back?” He eyed Morrowil, which the guard held in one meaty fist. The fool had no idea what he held.

“No. Swords are forbidden in Lakewood. It will be kept in the Tower until you leave our walls. Besides, you’ll have no need for it. Lakewood is a safe town. We make sure troublemakers like you don’t stay long.”

“We’ll see about that,” Gray said. He turned as a female’s voice, full of power and grace, cut through the din of battle—. Now loose from the guard’s grip, Gray debated running. But his curiosity was too great, and he followed the voice.

As he moved through the combatants, he noticed the skill of two men who clashed in the center of a circle. Too wide a stance, he remarked as the smaller of the two retreated under a flurry of blows. Gray saw the small man’s face break out in sweat, furiously parrying. The tall man pressed the clear advantage, ready to win.

The small man will win, a voice said. He squinted, curious where the thought came from, but it was clear it was his own voice. At last the small man cried out, smoothly side stepping a thrust from the tall man and smashing down with his sword. He stopped a sliver away from the tall man’s neck. His opponent wore a look of disbelief as a round of applause erupted from the circle. Gray smiled and continued, maneuvering his way through the combatants until he came to the stand of willowy yen trees from where the voice carried.

Guards conversed over long tables with scrolls spread across their surface, while couriers in black and red livery rushed to and fro. To their right, more men and women stood in congregation. They were dressed in fine silks of rich purples and blues.

Gray heard the woman’s voice again.

“You will not see them because they do not want you to see them. Not until it is too late. Only then will they strike.

“This meeting was called for one purpose only—to discuss the future of this land, and the lives of your people. Why we are here is to piece together the truth from the rumors and decide on the path for survival.” A round of unruly voices sounded from her last word. Her voice overrode it. Gray ducked and dodged to get closer, “It is now no longer a matter of fighting and winning, you must get that through your heads this instant, or leave and fall to the coming darkness. To understand this you must understand the enemy. They are from an age where magic reigned supreme, a time with kingdoms and armies dwarfing everything you know. Even then, as you have heard from your stories, the great armies failed against them. They wield powers that you cannot begin to fathom. We have only one option, we must find safety. We must go north.”

“Run? To where?” voices broke out.

“No! We must fight!”

“You speak only of rumors!”

The woman paused, as the quarreling of voices continued. Turning slightly, her eyes

locked with Gray, and he froze. She said something he couldn’t hear, and the others turned to one another, conversing heatedly as she left the circle. She approached, and Gray held his ground. She wore white silk from head to toe with a scarlet red cloak upon her shoulders—the cowl of which was pulled far forward. A tall, broad-shouldered man in green, cloaked and hooded as well, walked at her side. More like stalked, he corrected.