The Cordral Extent, 106 years after the Fall
CTENKA squinted up at the sun. The last time he’d ridden the trade road west it had been hot, but this was just ridiculous. Every crevice was moist, his clothes were sticking to him like tar and his own stink made him want to gag. And he’d not even got started on the disgusting excuse for a horse he was riding yet.
Turning in the saddle, he saw that the children were enduring the journey much better than he was. Castiel was at the front, clutching the reins. Lena was behind him, her arms around his waist. Ctenka had to admire the boy’s horsemanship. When they had first left Dunrun the steed had appeared keen, ready to bolt at the first opportunity. Now under the boy’s ministrations it plodded along, docile as any cow.
When they had been riding for two days, Ctenka saw a cloud of dust in the distance. He gripped his reins the tighter as he stared westward, his nerves getting the better of him.
What was it Josten said? ‘You’re no bloody hero,’ or some such. And he’d been right. Ctenka Sunatra was many things, but hero wasn’t one of them.
And if nothing else, a man had to be honest with himself.
So here he was, riding along with two silent children, away from the Great Eastern Militia. Riding away from his ambitions. He couldn’t bring himself to regret it.
The closer they got to the dust cloud, the more tightly Ctenka gripped his reins. He knew Lena and Castiel could more than look after themselves, but the less they explored what they were capable of, the better for everyone around them. Most of all, Ctenka.
Eventually he could make out details of the approaching riders. They flew the crossed scimitar flag of the Kantor Militia, and he could even pick out the preened figure of Aykan Cem at their head. Suddenly his fears disappeared like dust on the breeze. Even Ctenka had nothing to fear from the likes of that cowardly bastard.
He guided his horse to the side of the road and signalled for the children to do the same. Castiel pulled his reins to the right and his mount duly obeyed, plodding slavishly onto the side of the road. There they sat, waiting for the army to pass by.
When Aykan Cem reached them he reined in his horse, motioning for the column to carry on.
‘What’s this?’ he said. ‘A deserter running from the fight? If I wasn’t in such a hurry I’d have you clapped in irons.’
Ctenka gazed at him, wondering if he should deign to answer. It was probably polite. ‘The fight is over, Marshal,’ he replied. ‘And you’re late.’
Aykan Cem’s expression immediately altered. If Ctenka didn’t know better he’d have thought the man was relieved.
‘I see,’ he said, running a hand thoughtfully through his well-oiled beard. ‘I take it we won?’
‘If we hadn’t I doubt I’d be here to tell you the truth of it, Marshal.’
Aykan nodded. ‘Very well. And where do you think you’re going?’
Ctenka motioned towards the children. ‘I have orders to take these two to safety.’
Aykan looked towards Castiel and Lena. Now his relieved expression turned to one of fear. His horse seemed to sense his unease, and it grew restless beneath him.
‘Well, carry on then.’
With that, he put spurs to his steed and joined the column eastward.
Ctenka sat there, watching the men of the Kantor Militia pass by, before he guided his horse back onto the road and led the way west once more.
He’d made a promise, more of a bargain really, that he would take Lena and Castiel home when they had served their purpose. In recent days Ctenka Sunatra was becoming more and more a man of his word. He had to admit, it felt good.
The sun was falling by the time they reached the little farm on the edge of Ankrav Territory. Darkness had almost crossed the entire field of crops but still Markhan was out there, hoe in hand, carving a furrow into the harsh landscape.
The farmer was too busy with his labours to notice them, and Ctenka led his horse to the little white house at the edge of the fields. He climbed down, his damp clothes now starting to chill him in the cool evening air. When he turned to help Lena and Castiel down from their horse he saw they had already dismounted and were waiting patiently.
Felaina opened the door before he could even knock, and Ctenka was greeted by her big gap-toothed smile just as before.
‘Ctenka, come in,’ she said, hugging him to her ample bosom. ‘And who are these two?’
Ctenka introduced the children, and Felaina knelt beside them, giving them an equally huge hug. Neither of the children seemed to mind, and if Felaina noticed that one was burning hot to the touch and the other freezing, she didn’t mention it.
The woman didn’t even ask what he was doing back here, just eagerly invited them in, sat them at her meagre table and offered a share of their even more meagre meal.
Ctenka was struck by how much he had missed this. Honest hospitality. It made him feel a sudden sting of guilt at the arrogant way he had treated the pair when he last stayed.
As it grew dark outside, Markhan returned to the house. He greeted Ctenka like a long-lost brother, ruffling the hair of both children before taking his seat at the table. To Ctenka’s surprise, he saw both Lena and Castiel were smiling as they tucked into a bowl of lukewarm broth. It was the happiest he’d seen them.
That’s how he knew this was the right thing to do.
‘You’ll be staying the night,’ said Felaina. It wasn’t a question, and Ctenka gladly accepted her offer.
As the few candles in the little house began to flicker down to nubs, Felaina and Markhan bid Ctenka and the children good night. They’d been given ample blankets, and the floor wasn’t the worst place they’d slept in the past few weeks, so Ctenka had that to be grateful for.
He waited in the dark until he heard Markhan’s gentle snoring before he got up.
Lena and Castiel got up with him, following him across the room as he went. Ctenka signalled for them to stop before kneeling down beside them.
‘You can’t come with me,’ he said.
‘Why? Where are you going?’ whispered Lena.
It was a pretty good question. One Ctenka didn’t have the answer to.
‘Look, these are good people. They will take care of you. But you both have to promise me one thing. Can you do that?’
Both children nodded in unison and he took them both by the hand, one red hot, one freezing cold. ‘You mustn’t use your gifts on anyone. Neither of you, unless it’s to protect yourselves or someone you love. Do you promise?’
Both children nodded again.
‘Say it,’ Ctenka said.
They both said, ‘I promise,’ in unison.
‘Good. Then go back to sleep, and when you wake up you need to do whatever Markhan and Felaina tell you to. They’ll do their best by you. Try and be grateful.’
With that, Ctenka stood. He took the little note he’d written the day before from his pocket, and left it on the kitchen table before creeping out of the house. It wished Markhan and Felaina well, and apologised for leaving the children. He doubted they would mind.
Out in the chill night, Ctenka felt a mix of emotions. He was at once guilty for leaving those children behind and relieved to be free of them. Which emotion would rise to destroy the other remained to be seen.
After untying his horse he quietly mounted up and rode it away from the farm. He let the steed lead him on through the dark until the sun started to rise. Looking around in the newborn light, Ctenka found himself at a crossroads and wondered which way he should go.
If the tales were true, an army was coming from the north. A horde of warriors determined to conquer the whole world. Riding south as far and as fast as he could go seemed the only sensible option.
Ctenka had already risked his life for the Cordral and for Queen Suraan, and what did he have to show for it? What was there to gain by going to Kantor other than more suffering? More danger? More… glory?
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ he said to himself.
It was a stupid idea. One that would only see him dead. Ctenka Sunatra had not been raised a fool, he had more sense than to put himself in mortal peril once more.
Didn’t he?
‘You’ve got no bloody sense at all.’
With a pull of the reins, Ctenka set off west.
With luck he’d be in Kantor before sundown.