The Azimar Archives Book One- The Book of Death

Ajax

Ajax stood in the middle of the road, eyes fixed on the broken door of the farmhouse in front of him. The house was empty, the interior dark and quiet. The former inhabitants had left, just as so many others had left when Etritia shut her gates. The squawks and clucks of hens were gone, the few unharvested plants now rotting in the small field. But Ajax could still remember the warmth of Nevina's body as she walked beside him. He could hear her laugh on the chill wind that blew in from the north. He could still feel the touch of her skin against his lips...

Ajax turned away from the little farmhouse Nevina and her girls had borrowed, but he could not seem to leave it behind him. Would their things still be inside? Tucked in a room or a corner somewhere? Or did the owners burn their belongings after the Matriarch had been declared guilty of murdering the king?

In the weeks and months since Nevina's disappearance, Ajax had found himself standing in that exact spot more times than he could count, and he often asked those same questions of himself. It was the only constant in his life, that house and the few memories of Nevina it gave him. Hasani had grown sullen and quiet, often missing meals and returning to his quarters late in the night. Silvana tried to remain optimistic. Hasani was busy, she would say, making the new world a better place. But as the weeks passed, and she grew larger and larger with child, Ajax caught tears in her eyes more often than not, and even her cheery smile darkened. Ajax had warned her of Ferrand's veiled threat, urging her to remain in her rooms as often as she could. And she did. It hurt Ajax to no end to see his little sister trapped in a gilded cage, with a husband whose sole job was to help a man he mistrusted to rule a city of starving and angry people.

Their only other choice was to flee, and leave the people they cared about to flounder in turmoil. Ajax was sure the turmoil would spread, eventually.

And there was Nevina to find, if she was still alive.

Ajax's boots crunched against the frosted ground as he trudged back up the road to the gate. His duty was complete, as much as it could be. There were no farmers trying to sneak into the city to sell their wares. There were no hungry city dwellers scrounging among the rotting vegetables for treasured food. There was no one. The farmlands were as dead and still as the forgotten vegetation in the fields.

Ajax had taken no more than a few steps back along the King's road when the wind suddenly picked up, chilling him to the bone. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he paused, looking around anxiously.

Not more than a hundred feet in front of him, the air shimmered slightly. Ajax briefly wondered if it was an odd pocket of warm air, or if his eyes were playing tricks on him. But the shimmering intensified, and a woman suddenly appeared in midair a few feet above the ground. She seemed to float for just a moment, her dirty hair and ragged clothes caught in mid-motion, before she fell hard to the ground. The shimmer abruptly vanished, leaving nothing but the odd scent of something like incense.

Ajax could only stare, rooted to the spot.

The woman stirred, slowly climbing to her feet and muttering curses under her breath.

"Hey!" He shouted, startling even himself. His breath hung in the air, a puff of white on a grey morning.

The woman looked up, catching sight of him before leaping to her feet to run off.

Ajax started to pursue, each crunching step painfully loud. "Wait, wait, I can help you!"

The woman skidded to a halt and turned to face him, arm raised to throw something at him. But her hand was empty.

Ajax stopped short, suddenly realizing that this woman meant to curse him, or worse, kill him. He slowly raised his arms, surrendering. "I can help you, if you need it."