Beyond the Edge by Blake Hausladen

Author:Blake Hausladen [Hausladen, Blake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-9990676-9-7
Publisher: Rook Creek Books

10

Arilas Barok Yentif

“This is the last stretch of road before we reach Urnedi Manor,” the driver shouted over the squeak and bump of the old carriage. The cur had been chattering away ever since we had crossed into the province of Trace, and his bleating had only gotten worse when we got a look at the mountains and started across toward the desolate peninsula. Enhedu was not on any map I had ever seen.

The miserable carriage ride had taken eleven days of my life. Most had ended at a manor or estate. A messenger rode ahead of us announcing our arrival. My hosts never showed themselves, and the accommodations were even more of an insult. The bumpy dawn-to-dusk rides were exhausting, however, so I managed to do little more than eat their cold food and sleep in their musty beds. I was even left wanting the simple entitlement of a proper morning bath. I wished that I’d gotten a chance to snatch Dia along for the ride.

I contemplated refusing to get back into the carriage several times, but with Hessier trailing us, I had no choice. I opened the shutters, hoping to see a cobbled drive or manicured lawn but found instead a rutted dirt road. A branch swatted me across the face.

“Leger!”

No response came and I could not imagine where he had gotten so much wine. The carriage lurched, and I fell into the tiny space between the seats.

“No more of that,” my alsman roared with fire and venom. “Bounce us once more, and I will hang your skin from a tree.” The deep, penetrating sound reminded me of my father’s voice. I considered calling up some small praise to him but heard voices up the road.

“Hail to the gates,” my driver called.

“Welcome, Barok, son of Vall, Prince of Zoviya, and Arilas of Enhedu,” a deep, loud voice replied from off to the right as we came to a merciful halt.

I’d had enough of father’s game. I opened the door and leapt out to begin lambasting the whole, wretched bunch of them. But as I looked up a long stair at Urnedi Manor, I could find no words. The ugly mass of stone and wood set before me was no manor. It looked more like the castle haunt of some crazed priest. The twenty-some uneven steps had been hewn right out of a great, gray table of rock. A stout, round tower loomed over the stairs and the gate they led up to. The tall doors were open, and the keep behind them was a massive square of dark masonry twice as tall as any of the trees in the surrounding forest. Its surface was marked and dotted with high, barred windows, arrow-loops, and a few rough patches where hunks of stone had simply fallen away. The battlements along the top of the keep were jagged and broken like rotten teeth set along stone gums, and atop the corners of the walls were the broken stone columns and rotting timber posts of a fallen priests’ cupola.

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