The Exile: The Bound and The Broken Novella by Ryan Cahill

Author:Ryan Cahill [Cahill, Ryan & Cahill, Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-05-19T06:00:00+00:00

Part 3

TEMPERED IN BLOOD

FIVE YEARS LATER

V

OLD ROPES

Fifteen miles south of Elkenrim, Loria

Year 3075 After Doom

Sheets of rain hammered down from charcoal skies as Dayne stood beneath the edge of the forest canopy, his hand extended, droplets breaking against his palm. Before him, the ground rolled downwards towards an old dirt road, now mostly muddied, and then back up into the woodland on the other side.

The night air whipped around him, nipping at his skin, causing his cloak to ripple and billow. Even beneath the protection of the canopy, his clothes were near soaked through, and droplets fell from his nose and chin.

They had arrived almost two hours ago, so as to set themselves and to allow their eyes to adjust to the darkness. Even in the dim light of the waning moon, he could see the ripples of raindrops in the puddles on the road. “Are you ready?”

Belina stepped up beside him, a black mantle draped over her shoulders. She stared at the road for a few moments before turning to face him, dark hair matted to her skin by rainfall. “Five years and you still ask stupid questions.”

Dayne couldn’t help but laugh, the white of Belina’s teeth betraying her smile. “Five years and you still don’t give straight answers.”

“And I never will.” Belina winked, turning to look back out over the road below. All mirth left her voice as she stared off into the blackness. “This is the last one, Dayne. We do this, and I am free. Then we take you to Sylvan Anura.” Belina looked back at him, her eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Don’t fuck it up.”

Dayne let the slightest of smiles touch his lips. There was no happiness in it; it was more a reflex than anything else. “I’ll try not to.”

It was at least another half hour, by Dane’s reckoning, before the slopping, sucking sounds of horse hooves in mud travelled through the valley, carrying on the night air. A few moments later, the dim orange glow of lanterns broke through the blanket of night.

“Sixteen riders and a two-horse carriage, large enough for four. They’re already struggling with the mud,” Dayne whispered, threads of Fire and Spirit enhancing his vision aided by the light from the lanterns that hung from the carriage.

“Good. Remember, this needs to look like bandits. Do what we planned, and no more of that hand wavy shit than is needed.”

“I don’t wave my hands.”

“I’ve seen you do it.

“Fuck off, Belina.”

Dayne could only see the back of Belina’s hood, but he didn’t have to see her face to know she was grinning from ear to ear.

Shaking his head, Dayne reached back and pulled his leather bow sleeve from around his shoulders, opened the straps, and removed his bow and string. He tossed the sleeve back into place and set about stringing the bow. He ran his finger along the string, plucking at it, more from habit than anything else.

“Wait for it…” Belina whispered, her voice only just rising over the drumming of the rain on Dayne’s hood.

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