Coil of Worlds

The wailing outside the barracks woke Skye Silverhand from his ale-induced sleep. Stumbling over to the window, he peered out into the bright sunlight and saw the distant bonfire on the top of the mountain separating Pyran from Kureto. The bonfire on the left of the mountainside, which signaled their army had lost the battle, was shooting up in flames. A portion of Pyran’s army had traveled past Kureto’s border with the intent of seizing the Kurite stronghold, Areth.

It never failed. Whenever the Pyrannis went underground to fight, they suffered defeat. A sigh turned into a painful wince when the two or three wailing screams were picked up by others. He’d drunk too much ale the night before for his head to handle the keening of his city’s women. Their cries spread like wildfire through the inner walls of the castle grounds.

Squinting out the window with bloodshot eyes, Skye suspected the main reason for the invasion attempt had been the hope that with the fall of Areth, the kingdom of Pyran could finally end the war. Rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger and rolling his head on his stiff neck, Skye made his way back over to the bed to lie down. As soon as his eyes closed, the door banged open and slammed into the adjacent wall. His childhood friend and now first battlemate came striding into the room.

A groan escaped despite his attempt to stop the sound.

Disregarding his friend’s agony, Dane Ironside said, “Did you hear? We were defeated, again.”

Because the only furniture in the room, besides a clothes-closet and armor-stand, was the bed, Dane slapped Skye’s feet aside to sit on a corner of the bed. “The runner just came in. It will be a few more days before we find out who was taken prisoner and who died in battle.”

Suddenly noticing how Skye cradled his head instead of listening to him, Dane asked, “Have you taken ill? Shall I call for someone?”

Skye glared at his friend. Dane’s concern morphed into mischief, and Skye inwardly cringed. His friend’s penchant for teasing would be the death of him.

Taking on a sailor’s slow drawl, Dane said, “So, you drank t’ much ale last night, did ye!”

While his friend cackled at his own ill humor, Skye growled, “Would you be quiet. I cannot hear anything you are going on about with the pounding in my skull.”

When his friend, for once, took pity on him, he looked over at Dane with suspicion. Seeing his friend’s smirk, he groaned and managed to stand himself back up. Keeping his eyes open only as far as necessary, Skye made his way over to his closet to the bowl of water on a shelf.

He splashed water on his face several times to clear his head. Grabbing the towel, he swiped his hands and face dry.

When Skye turned to look at Dane again, jerking his head for him to continue, his friend resumed his retelling of the latest news. “I wanted to give you all the information I was able to glean from the guards at the gate. Since Mikal was one of the soldiers sent to fight the Kurites, I knew you’d want to know what little information there was.”

The headache forgotten Skye gave Dane his full attention. His brother Mikal had been sent to the Training House when Skye was only six years of age. Although Mikal and Skye had never been close as some brothers were, it didn’t matter. They shared the same blood. Knowing his friend’s proclivity for gathering information, Skye trusted Dane to have all the latest facts and rumors.

Following a short pause, Dane related what he’d heard. “One of the guardsmen informed me the runner left for the border as soon as Commander Gaspar Greywind saw the battle turn in Kureto’s favor. The runner did not know whether the defeat took place or the Kurite soldiers took any prisoners. What he does have are the full details up to the time he was given his orders. Unfortunately, the Commander’s hope for a surprise attack did not succeed as planned.” He grimaced before continuing. “Somehow the heathens knew when and where we would attack.”

In disgust, Dane slapped his leg with the flat of his hand as he added his own opinion, “We, of course, were hindered in the battle because of the men’s necessity for light. They had to carry torches into those dark, Gods-forsaken tunnels.”

The Kurites had no need for light underground, but the Pyrannis did. The people who lived underground were able to perform all the same activities without the assistance of light, much like the Pyrannis did above ground in full daylight. This unnatural ability gave the Kurites a certain advantage against Skye’s people while in the tunnels. The warriors’ fighting ability was not in question, but rather the hindrance of being blind in the tunnels. In order to have enough light to find their way into the bowels of the earth, the soldiers carried torches, impeding the men’s ability to fight.

In a turnabout of fair play, the Kurites were similarly hindered during the daylight hours above ground. Their light-sensitive eyes could not withstand the intense sunlight for any length of time.

Stirring from the position he’d taken when Dane began talking, Skye rubbed his face with his right hand and asked, “What other information did you hear?”

Lifting his eyes toward the ceiling, Dane snorted and said, “The men were not even able to cross the expanse of the cave to attack the walls guarding the city of Areth. Their warriors were waiting on ours to enter the opposite side of what he believed a cavern. The runner believed their ranks outnumbered our men three to one. The commander wasn’t certain. More fighters hid in the tunnels branching off from the main room waiting to join the battle.”

Laughing without humor, he continued, “They actually waited, almost politely, for us to file into the cave and form ranks. The guard also said something about the evil, black cats that fought alongside the Kurites.”

In disbelief, Dane shook his head as he repeated what the guard told him. “The runner was overheard saying a scream from one of the cats caused the battle to commence.” Looking over at Skye, his friend asked, “Have you found anything in your studies that explains how the Kurites can train the animals to fight with them and follow their commands?”

His deep frown was evidence of Skye’s frustration. “No, I have only been able to trace our history back seven hundred years, looking for any mention of these cats.” He shrugged before continuing, “There are a few manuscripts dating back to the Dark War, but no one can decipher the language now. There are a few clerks who have been working on it for the last twenty years, but they’ve yet to translate the scrolls.”

Leaning back against the wall, Skye said, “My intuition says the cats are more than they appear, but the clerks condemned the idea as soon as I voiced it. They believe the cats fight as they do because they are bespelled by the Kurites.”

Remembering the debate he’d had with one of the clerks two weeks ago, he realized they’d gotten off topic. Shrugging off his musings, Skye brought the original conversation back around. “After all this time, the Kurites wouldn’t alter their tradition when dealing with prisoners, would they?”

“I do not believe so. They won’t kill anyone who surrenders once they have overtaken our warriors. Though I’ve no idea what they will do with the men. In the past year, they’ve traded their prisoners in exchange for their own people. The only Kurites we have are the slaves.”

Traditionally, the Pyrannis took defeated warriors and forced them into hard labor for a period of no more than five years. At that time, the slave’s family was allowed to exchange for the slave by offering the owner the appropriate barter goods. The monetary value of the goods depended on the rank of the owner within Pyran. If the owner was a member of the ruling house of Greywind, then the bartering took the form of money. If the owner was of the lower Houses, the bartering took the form of supplies or goods. It provided Pyrannis a steady supply of slave labor without shipping men and women from overseas. This past year King Ragnar had broken protocol, trading slaves for the Pyranni captives.

The cats, for reasons not understood, had never been caught by Pyranni warriors. The animals slipped through their traps on every occasion.

The Kurites, as explained by the returned Pyranni warriors, did not believe in enslaving people—even their enemies. The warriors they defeated in battle were taken to a bespelled section of the tunnels. No Pyranni could cross the magical barrier, effectively imprisoning them in their cells. The men were held separate from any of the Kurite cities, detaining them in large cells in one of the many tunnel systems. As such, no one in Pyran knew what exactly took place within the walls of any major Kurite city.

The Kurites were a secretive people and were feared because of it.

As long as the prisoners did not leave their designated area of the tunnels, they were free to do whatever they wished. It was the most secure prison any Pyranni had ever seen.

They were treated well enough, though guards were placed at the tunnel entrances in case someone passed through the magical barrier set in place. One of the older men, once a prisoner thirty years earlier, had described the barrier as an invisible wall. He could see through the barrier, but he’d never seen anyone except a golden-eyed Kurite or a cat step across it.

Although everyone believed the man’s story about the good treatment of their men, no one wanted to be imprisoned underground. Many of their best and strongest warriors came back insane and physically weakened. The men had been underground for too long without the benefit of the sun.

Getting up and clasping his shoulder, Dane offered him solace, understanding his fear for Mikal. “Do not worry. If Mikal wasn’t killed in the battle, then he will survive. Mikal is physically and mentally strong. He can withstand anything the Kurites put before him.”

Skye closed his eyes for a moment and released a long, slow breath. When he opened them, he said a prayer to the Gods, whispering, “And he is in both God’s and the Goddess’s hands now. May they both watch over him.”